Fading Light
by Saria19
Summary: Earth is discovered by sheer chance on an outer spiral of an Unknown region of the Galaxy. Acting fast, operatives of the fledgling Rebellion rush to warn the aboriginal race that monsters are real, and they are coming for them from across the stars.
1. Chapter 1

Jiff Lumin rubbed his eyes, offering them a brief respite from the screen he'd been staring at for hours. It was the same thing every day; come in, get a cup of watery caff, stare at a screen until it was time for the midday meal, eat said meal while staring at the screen, and stare at the screen until the work day ended.

It was a routine he had held to for years now, ever since he'd been pretty much conscripted by the Empire five years ago when he'd been fresh from university.

They had made it sound so exciting at the time: using probes to explore the unknown areas of the galaxy, discover new planets or asteroids for mining and possibly, planets that were suitable for habitation. Or the extremely rare gem: a new race.

Part of the deal was a special commission for each new planet or asteroid discovered but he had discovered what that had been early on in his first year: 50 credits. That was maybe a week of food for a stingy budgeter, forget it being worth much to a bachelor seeking to impress a lady.

Jiff wondered far more than once if perhaps he should have stayed on Chandrila rather than pursuing space exploration. He had wanted adventure though.

And he got a desk job at a space station in the middle of nowhere space.

There were days he pretended to forget the name of the planet he was stationed on. Then there were days he actually did. Like today.

Rising from his station, he headed for the fresher, ignoring the bored look his supervisor sent in his direction. One good thing about working here was that as long as he showed up and attempted to look like he was doing his job, no one cared.

The fresher was small and smelled stale, they had to clean it themselves every so often and he was willing to bet that that day was fast approaching. Maybe he should slip in a glance at the schedule and plan a sick day.

As he unzipped his fly and relieved himself, his thoughts turned back to the last star system the probes under his control had explored. It had been interesting at first due to the three stars and there were even some planets; a rather unusual combination. Multiple stars usually occurred without the formation of planets, especially when there was more than two stars.

That interest soon gave away as the planets were studied. They were sunbaked, far too close to one of the stars, and scanning indicated no mining potential. Another worthless system that he had wasted days studying.

Jiff snorted at his thoughts as he zipped himself up then headed to the sink to wash his hands. Just a few years ago, when he had first started, just finding a new system had been exciting to the point where he had bounced in his seat. Now he knew there were plenty of systems, but most of them weren't of any value.

His probes should be reaching the next system today, this one consisting of a single small star that had a bit of small flickers in the light to indicate some planets. Probably.

Heading back to his station, stopping to grab another cup of their weak caff, Jiff resigned himself to another boring day at a boring and useless assignment.

Two hours clicked by slowly as he checked several of his probes, one of them having found a small field of asteroids that indicated some mining possibilities. He noted the location on his charts and sighed. A possible 50 credits would likely be the highlight of his day.

A beeping drew his attention back to the probe heading for the system and he brought up the information.

The probe had found an orbital path that could possibly belong to a small, almost asteroid size planetoid. It was too far from the system star to be inhabited though so he'd check it out later.

The next orbital path indicated a significantly larger planet and this one he set the probe to pursue. It took several minutes to intercept and then he was staring at a large blue planet. The probe's sensors activated automatically and he didn't need the initial readings to know it was uninhabited. The speeds of the winds were high, higher than normal for a gas giant but the contents were of some relative value. Helium and hydrogen weren't rare by any stretch of the imagination, but the demand was high. The other components such as water, ammonia, and methane also had their uses.

The planet was marked down before his attention moved to the satellites and he nodded at the number. Over 14 noted moons, the largest with an interesting reverse orbit of the planet. It was at a size that a small base for miners could be set up there.

Directing the probe toward the system star again, Jiff could barely hold back his grin as several minutes later, yet another planetary orbit was discovered.

This planet was paler than the previous planet but the composition was near identical. It had a ring system and he noted that the axis of the planet seemed to almost be at a 90-degree angle, and there were 27 moons, five larger than the rest.

Once more he noted the planet and realized that this was likely to be his best day ever, even if the rest of the system was empty.

Another planet was discovered within minutes of departing back to the center of the system and this time, Jiff almost gasped at the beauty before him.

This planet was enormous and the rings were truly beautiful. Readings on resources were more than just slightly promising and his fingers itched to just stop and explore this planet thoroughly before heading into the system, but that was against procedure. He was supposed to explore the entire system before choosing the most promising planet for an in-depth analysis.

Glancing at the clock, he saw that the day was supposed to end in less than an hour, meaning he'd spent two hours exploring this new system alone. For a moment he considered forgoing the shuttle planet-side but tossed out that idea. He wasn't going to find much more and it would still be here tomorrow.

Directing the probe towards the center of the system again, the minutes seemed to drag by before another orbit was discovered, the largest thus far!

The probe took almost 10 minutes to catch up to the planet, and Jiff found himself tapping his foot, watching the clock, urging the probe to go faster. His manner attracted the attention of several of his coworkers as they glanced up from their monotonous work and soon, multiple eyes were watching his monitor.

Gasps came from several people as the stunning planet came into view, its system of moons practically gleaming like gems. Ice moons, volcanic ones, the collection went on and on. But the planet was the truly amazing sight. Bands of yellow, orange, and white whipped across the surface of the planet and an enormous red spot, likely a storm of some sort, raged in a radical contrast to the lighter colors.

Circling the planet, another spot and more moons came into view. Readouts on the gas composition indicated this could have ignited into a second sun if the planet had gained more mass and it had an ocean of liquid hydrogen beneath those clouds.

Jiff noted the planet with pride. Four large gas giants, completely untouched. The system his probes had found had the potential of being a gold mine! And there was more yet to see! If there was a planet that could be inhabited, then a large base could be set up or even a settlement!

His coworkers were congratulating him on his discovery as he entered his codes to lock the probe in orbit of the planet. He was really looking forward to restarting the search in the morning.

Jiff's supervisor did a double take at the number of discoveries he had made that day, noting the coordinates before the group headed towards the shuttle bay, joining the throngs of other sentients stationed at this outpost. They were not important enough to warrant a better station but there were more than a few rumors that some were actually high level researchers working on top secret projects far from where suspicious eyes would look.

As Jiff Lumin boarded one of the shuttles, his mind just kept turning back to the system he was currently exploring. Currently it was unnamed, so perhaps they'd name it after him? That would be a true prize, and not one that he could have obtained by staying on Chandrila.

The shuttle departed before he could change his mind about leaving, the station going into lockdown after the staff had left, and then Jiff was heading towards the planet that served as his temporary home.

Around him, people buzzed and laughed, some talking about work or vacations, or in the case of his coworkers, his new planet.

"Think it'll be a viable system?" one of them finally asked as the shuttle set down at the edge of the settlement.

"Don't know!" Jiff replied with a laugh. "It's been promising thus far."

"Imagine finding aborigines. You'd get a promotion and a new station for certain," one of the men pointed out.

The thought caused a bolt of excitement and trepidation to shoot through Jiff as he stepped off the shuttle.

"There might be a habitable planet," he admitted after a moment before his eyes found a small group of the aborigines of this particular planet. They had been displaced and heavily drugged with spice when the first settlers arrived. Now they begged for whatever jobs they could in order to feed their families and addictions. These particular beings looked like some sort of feline species that walked on two legs and didn't look to have as much hair as many species with that sort of ancestry did.

'But I hope there aren't any inhabitants,' he admitted to himself, even if it would mean not getting off of this world and somewhere more comfortable.

Rejecting various offers to get some drinks, Jiff instead headed straight for his apartment and headed to the fresher for a shower. A quick change of clothes later and he settled down with a drink to stare out of his window at the stars.

They had held wonder for him as a youth and he'd dreamed of exploring them. Reality wasn't as great as his dreams, and the Empire wasn't good to those who might inhabit new planets.

Those thoughts now turned his excitement to dread as he stared up at the station. Tomorrow he'd finish the basic analysis of that new system and though he may have found the system of his dreams…

Sleep did not come easy that night. More than once he woke from nightmares where he was forced to watch some faceless species be forced out of their homes or blasted out of existence. That was a likely outcome if there was a species on an inhabitable planet that far out, especially in a system that would likely hold no value aside from mining.

His supervisor came by that morning before he could call in sick.

She was a firm woman in her 60's, the lines of her face leaving little doubt that she had seen some unpleasant things. He heard that she hailed from Alderaan and had not managed to dodge a conscription after the Empire had stabilized, just barely getting herself inserted into a career far from the battlefield. Her name was Mira Figire and she knew what he'd been thinking.

The walk to the shuttle, once seeming so exciting, now felt like a dark march. Jiff was excited for what he might find but dreaded it as well. To make matters worse, his coworkers were all excited, determined to watch what was found that day.

Too soon he was at his station and entering the codes to activate his probe. The image of the planet from yesterday returned and Jiff directed the probe towards the center of the system again.

An asteroid belt was the first discovery and the alloys that just basic scanning picked up reaffirmed that this system would likely be mined.

Several minutes after passing the belt, another planetary orbit was picked up and Jiff's heart began to speed up as he directed the probe to intercept it. Behind him there were murmurs as people noted that the planet was within the distance necessary to the star for life to form and his heart beat faster.

The red planet only raised his uneasiness as it came into view, then the readouts began and he relaxed. No noteworthy lifeforms. Plenty of minerals and metals, but no life. This planet could be terraformed if necessary but there was no new race to be displaced.

Directing the probe back towards the center of the system, Jiff almost sighed in relief while his coworkers groaned. Almost an hour in and in a few minutes they'd pass the livable zones and…

A beep of a planetary orbit drew his attention and Jiff's heart rate picked up again as the excited murmurs started again.

Turning to intercept, a planet came into view only seconds later. The murmurs behind him rose in volume as the planet proved to be blue in color.

Instruments started to give readouts quite suddenly and Jiff's hands went cold. Radio signals. The planet had a rather large amount of radio signals bouncing around it. Behind him, the murmurs ceased as someone touched a control and garbled noise filled the space.

"There're satellites!" someone behind him declared, pointing out various objects that floated above the surface of the planet.

Jiff felt his breath freeze. The planet was inhabited. Without a doubt.

No one noticed the supervisor take note of the coordinates and send them over a tiny comlink.

It was a day that Mira Figire had awaited and dreaded as she sent the coordinates. With any luck, they would reach her Alderaanian contacts without incident and maybe, just maybe, they could do something. Take this discovery to the Senate, slow down the Empire from whatever they might do to this isolated world.

Her eyes strayed then to the world they were stationed on as she thought this. Figire system was what they called this place, named after she had discovered this system a mere three months after the establishment of the Empire 15 years ago.

In the days of the Republic, ambassadors would have been sent to introduce the sentients to the Republic and help set up an educational system that wouldn't disrupt the culture of the planet. To her horror, that hadn't been the new policy.

Today, she knew what Jiff had been thinking because she had thought it too, seen it put into action. There were people far smarter who had destroyed their probes on 'accident', but that only ever bought time and those people normally disappeared.

By bringing Jiff here today, she may have saved his life but knew they were going to be gambling for time from now on. And as he glanced at her, she saw he knew it too.

Action from the Empire might be delayed a bit, but it would come. Hopefully the Rebellion would manage to reach this new planet and give them warning of the monster that might soon be headed their way.

No, that would soon be headed their way. She was sure of it. The resources found in the Figire system were not remarkable, no mining or luxury items and yet the Empire came to conquer it.

Whoever those people were, she hoped they had the opportunity to either defend themselves or evacuate, if that was at all possible. After all, the Alliance didn't have resources that would allow the second option.

zzzzzzzzzz

The messenger that stood before Bail Organa wore a blank expression, but he knew this man well enough. He was one of the contacts for a Rebel cell located here on Alderaan. He was stationed in the communications department and knew of no other operatives since his position was that sensitive.

This man fielded and filtered all the information that came in from various rebel spies and sympathizers then delivered messages to appropriate drop off points. That he would come to him meant that something had happened that needed his attention either as the Viceroy of Alderaan or as the Imperial Senator.

The messenger said nothing, just handed Bail a piece of flimsy that had a series of numbers written upon it before walking off.

Momentarily confused, the Viceroy headed to his computer and brought up the Holonet, typing in the numbers and felt his mouth go dry as he saw that they coincided with a recently discovered planet, far in one of the Unknown regions on an outer arm of the galaxy. The system was noted as being a promising mining location and inhabited. The report had been filed a mere hour ago.

There was no telling how much time they had, but the listed possible resources would mean not much and the survey of the system wasn't even complete!

Thankfully, Mon Mothma answered his call over their secure commlinks quickly.

"Organa?" she asked.

Bail's response was to reel off the numbers to her and he heard the clicking of keys over the line, indicating she understood.

"Force," she murmured a moment later. "Those people will be annihilated if this system turns out to be as promising as it seems."

"Or used as slave labor," Bail supplied, an outcome neither supported but was a very distinct possibility. "I plan to send an emissary as soon as possible. Give them some warning, possibly some documents for ship building and producing fuel."

"Make sure they take a universal translator droid and are prepared to stay until the droid can crack the language. I'll begin assembling some forces as well, send them some weaponry and engineers."

"They don't need weapons, they-"

"Haven't left their own system yet," Mothma reminded him sharply. "They might not have shipyards and a total evacuation might not be possible. And even if it is, they might prefer to fight for their planet. We can't deny them that."

Bail squeezed his eyes shut, fighting a mild war of ethics. Alderaan had no weapons and he was loath to offer any, but what could he offer otherwise?

"We'll see what they decide. For now, hold your team until mine establishes contact. We'll need to make sure this is publicly delayed as long as possible and not pushed through quietly like the last few invasions were."

"Agreed," Mothma replied before cutting the line.

Bail stared at his commlink before setting it into the disposal pile. These could only be used once with complete assured anonymity and Imperial spies were everywhere. He couldn't risk using this commlink again.

Bringing up his personnel files, he quickly selected a sympathetic pilot then turned his attention to possible emissaries before a throat being cleared pulled his attention to the door.

There stood Leia, his daughter. Her eyes were determined as she stared at him, reminding him too much of her mother. How much had she heard?

"I'd suggest not sending Hric Dalhney," she stated quietly. "He's fine when dealing with calm beings, even if they're talking of war, but I feel he'd be in over his head if he had to explain everything the Empire might do to people who might panic. He might glaze over the worst parts and not fully prepare them."

Bail Organa sighed but nodded before his eyes focused on another name. Ylenic It'kla, his friend who was also a Jedi Knight and negotiator. He wouldn't cut corners even if he was uncomfortable and Jedi tended to learn new languages very quickly due to the Force.

Glancing back at the door, he saw that Leia was already gone, he hoped it wasn't to stowaway on the ship as he placed the requisition order for the best translator droid he had.

zzzzzzzzzz

If anyone asked the average citizen what the worst thing on their mind was, some would say taxes. Some would say ISIS. Some might also say North Korea.

If one asked the upper-level employees of NASA, Roscosmos, or high level intelligence officers of various militaries or the governments, provided the answer was truthful, it would have been the same issue.

A strange object had been spotted by several telescopes just past the orbit of the moon. It had stayed there for four days then began to creep closer. The movements were too approximate to be a random piece of space debris or a meteor or asteroid and all indications were that it was metal.

The Hubble managed to give the first clear picture and alarms had promptly gone off when the form of the object could clearly be determined to be man-made.

Weapons systems were armed immediately and alerts went to all stations world-wide. No one claimed the device and all knew that no one could have launched it.

The hacker group Anonymous were amongst the first to notice something was wrong and they began looking on the fifth day, but their searches were mostly in vain since it didn't occur to them that the threat could be from somewhere off world.

ISIS were the ones to announce the presence of the object to the rest of the world, mass producing pictures and claiming that it was Allah looking upon the world. This was met with a lot of eye rolling and skepticism, which was only surpassed when Kim Jong Un tried to claim it to be the property and demonstrated superiority of North Korea.

Around the Earth, people began to look up to the sky and many began to prepare, whether that be for the end of the world or an invasion.

Finally, ten days after it appeared, the object moved on. It zipped away towards Mars and the satellites and telescopes couldn't keep up for more than a few seconds.

Any relief that was felt was short lived since within a few hours another object appeared. This UFO stayed just within the orbit of the moon for almost a two days before finally, contact was made.

The signal blasted across the airwaves of Earth and in that moment, all cell phones and televisions displayed a message in the language of the region.

"The White House at 2pm, on XX XX XXXX"

Emergency meetings were declared on every corner of the planet, many uncertain of what this could possibly mean. Prime Minister Trudeau of Canada was the first to call the staff of the White House, wanting to know what the plan was.

President Obama was uncertain himself. He felt he should meet this party but didn't know whether they would be hostile or not. So as much as he wanted to request that Trudeau join him in Washington, he did not ask. Trudeau himself asked and was advised that until they knew the intents of these aliens that he remain in a safe house if he did come.

Prime Minister Cameron of England got through next, advising the US President that he would be there as well. He was soon followed by calls from Senators and other world leaders, either wishing him luck or requesting that he consider moving and having a different person meet the aliens.

Courage that was expected of the President was all that Obama had in his corner as he promised that he would meet these people though he advised all others remain away, even ordering the Vice President away. Candidates Clinton and Trump, the main fore-runners of the upcoming election, were notably scarce.

Across the United States, people moved quickly since the date of the meeting was to be the next day. Traffic crowded roadways as people either evacuated or gathered in Washington. Parks, walkways, and even streets were crowded with tents as people arrived, hoping to catch a glimpse of the aliens. Any attempts to make them move were brushed off.

The next day came with different worries for many. Some were terrified of possible hostilities. Some worried of the end of their way of life while still others prayed that this was actually a divine display.

At noon, the gates surrounding the White House were surrounded by a large human wall when another message came, blaring through cell phones and televisions as people across the world watched in fascination. This message requested that a landing area be designated for their arrival and included measurements of what was needed in feet and meters.

A number of the Secret Service who were present in the White House ran onto the lawn, marking off an area of the prescribed parameters using white paint on the grass.

At 1:40pm, sensors around the world went sent out alarms as the object began to move slowly, in a manner most would call non-hostile. It was like they were trying to not cause them to panic.

At 1:50pm the ship entered the atmosphere over the Atlantic Ocean, heading for the main continental US. Several flights that had still gone ahead that day were promptly rerouted.

1:55 had the ship settling on the White House lawn amongst the Secret Service, right in the prepared area. A hush ran through the crowd as everyone waited to see what would come.

Many were relaxing, the ship didn't seem hostile and hadn't opened fire yet, so maybe there wasn't too much to worry about.

Finally, a ramp from the ship lowered and two beings descended the ramp. One was obviously a robot of some sort while, a gleaming silver thing that moved with a fluidness most didn't associate with robots. The other was a furry being that drew even more eyes, his body language seemed peaceful though, friendly even as he offered a slight bow to the men and women before him.

"May I present Ylenic It'kla, emissary of the planet Alderaan," the droid stated in flawless English as the furry being offered his bow.

The cheers started out slow but rapidly grew in volume as people surrounding the White House shouted their welcome, cheering for the visitor who now definitely seemed to be a good, peaceful visitor.

Ylenic glanced at the crowd and seemed to offer a faint smile and bow, garnering further louder cheers before turning to the Secret Service and saying something to the droid.

"We do apologize for any discomfort and for being so abrupt, but we really must meet with your leaders. I'm afraid that time is very much of the essence."

The men and women, some of whom had almost been smiling, straightened up and began to lead the way to the White House.

Across town, the assembled world leaders who had made it to Washington were already headed to a terminal room in order to watch the proceedings. They would be able to hear and see the visitor, it would in turn be able to see and hear them over monitors set up in the Oval Office, but it shouldn't know their exact location. Hopefully.


	2. Chapter 2

Ylenic It'kla would be the first to admit that he hadn't known what to expect from the species of this new planet.

It was one of those hit-and-miss sort of issues. In the days of the Republic, procedures were that they would observe a new planet, introduce themselves slowly and allow the people time to adjust, especially if the Republic was making the first contact. Just going to the planet straight away had not been done but unfortunately, was what was needed here.

So when Bail Organa had told him of the dilemma, how these people could have their home destroyed from beneath their feet, he had remembered his own home and now displaced species. The trip could have very easily been dangerous, but he felt the need to go.

Their ship had sat just inside of the orbit of the planet's single moon for three days as the droid, an extremely upgraded E-3PO, interfaced with the communications systems of the planet.

The droid determined that the planet was named Earth, the moon was Luna, the system star was Sol, and there were over 100 different dialects spoken on the planet with the people having general unrest due to borders and religions.

Shaken but determined that they continue their missions, Ylenic had waited the extra days for E-3PO to finish translating their messages before broadcasting them, selecting the White House as the location to meet simply because it offered meeting one of the most powerful leaders with enough space to land.

Landing had been more than a little eerie, the crowded streets below were new to the Jedi in that he wasn't used to so many eyes staring at a single craft. He sensed limited hostility though.

"They're human!" his pilot gasped as soon as they landed and he was able to actually examine the forms outside.

"How drawl, a planet of primitive humans," the E-3PO intoned and Ylenic and his pilot, Gin Kain, exchanged looks. Both felt that Bail should have sent a different droid within an hour of departure but hadn't turned back since time was of the essence.

"Display any of your attitude or insult them, and I'll take my chances with learning the lingo myself after blasting you into spare parts, droid," Gin declared. And they all knew he would do it with a smile on his face and the Alderaanian anthem in his heart.

"Let's try to at least appear diplomatic," Ylenic urged. "We're delivering some extremely bad news and very little hope. If they are to trust us, then we must let them know that we wish to help them."

Both the pilot and droid grumbled as they stood, both wishing a different droid were there.

"I'll stay with the ship. And remember droid, say anything other than what you are ordered to these people, and you'll be getting a one-way ticket into the star of this system since we got to go by it to avoid the probe while leaving."

Gin had stood at the top of the ramp as it lowered to allow Ylenic and the droid to exit the ship, all of them hearing the initial silence that surrounded the area. It was beyond eerie to the Jedi and the pilot, the latter of whom considered dragging the former back onboard (conveniently forgetting the droid), and getting out of there. Then the droid had made its announcement while Ylenic bowed and the cheers had started.

Glancing out, Gin felt a grin pull at his lips. It wasn't like any of the Alderaanian gardens, but the planet looked pleasant enough. Add to it that even their welcoming party, though they looked a serious and tough bunch much like the Royal Guards on Alderaan, had some smiles for the Jedi, and it seemed these people would be just fine.

As Ylenic and the droid entered the white building, Gin ambled down the ramp of his ship and it seemed there were even more cheers coming from beyond the gates.

Turning his head, the pilot noticed that a number of the denizens of this world were shouting in their native tongue, waving, and holding up banners. It definitely didn't look like a mob intent on murder and he offered a sheepish smile and a wave, earning screams as every person tried to wave back, pushing and shoving to be seen.

A clearing of a throat caught his attention and he saw a few of the black outfitted people had remained around his ship, one of them having approached him and was speaking, but he didn't understand anything that was said.

"Sorry," he admitted. "I don't know the language."

Thankfully the man seemed to understand and instead made a gesture towards the white building Ylenic had entered.

"No, I stay with the ship." He informed the man as he pointed towards the ship.

The man nodded before returning to his position, acting as a guard for the ship as Gin glanced around. Now he really hoped that something could be done for these people. That feeling increased several minutes later when another of the people approached from the house several minutes later with a number of water bottles in hand. He took one of the cold bottles when it was offered gratefully since it was rather hot.

Ylenic and the droid on the other hand, were guided through the White House quietly. Though well decorated in a sense, it seemed a lot more like a well-appointed office than the place where a leader would live. The Jedi didn't fail to notice that the various offices looked empty.

Several minutes later, they entered a large office where the President of the United States awaited them.

Ylenic It'kla didn't know what to think of this man, Barack Obama. Politician was the first thing to come to mind, and that wasn't always a good thing.

Beside the large desk, a series of monitors were set up and he saw a number of other people watching. He knew immediately these were other world leaders, all wanting to participate in this meeting. He offered them a polite bow and was pleased when several nodded their heads in turn. Being the only one present, Obama bowed to him in turn.

Beverages were offered and Ylenic politely waved them away before the President began to speak. Ylenic was not familiar with the language but the Force came to his guidance and he knew that this was a greeting. A very political and long-winded greeting.

"He welcomes you to the planet Earth and the United States," E-3PO informed him in a bored tone. "That they have looked forward to meeting other residents of the universe for many years, etcetera."

"He also wants to ensure that the probe was in fact ours and how long we have been watching."

"Tell him it was not our probe; we are with a group opposed to those that sent that."

E-3PO turned back to the human and began to translate the message and uncertainty began to seep from the man in waves before he spoke again.

"He'd like an explanation then of what is going on."

Ylenic had thought thoroughly on how to explain this and decided, especially with the language barrier, that pictures might be the best way. "Translate exactly what I tell you."

"Yes sir."

Reaching into his robes, the Caamasi Jedi pulled out a small holoprojector, noting the way that the human across from him stiffened as he did this. He carefully placed the holoprojector on the desk and activated the device, bringing up an image of the galaxy.

"This is our galaxy," he began and waited for the droid to translate. "The various points are systems that are known to currently or to once have hosted life."

Now indicating the outermost portion of one of the arms, he continued. "This is where you're located. Currently you don't show up on the map just yet, but that will soon change due to the probe finding your system."

Once again he waited as E-3PO translated and noted that the President and other listeners seemed to be listening studiously.

"Previously, our galaxy was governed as a Republic. The policy for encountering new planets that were inhabited by beings unused to offworlders was to send diplomats to introduce them to the Republic and help in the spread of Basic, the common language spoken by those of us in the Republic."

E-3PO translated this and President Obama asked a question, which Ylenic knew was a query as to whether this was what was happening.

"He wants to know if you are such a delegate," the droid stated.

"No. 15 years ago the Republic was usurped when the Chancellor declared himself Emperor and reformed the Republic as the Galactic Empire. Their way of dealing with new cultures is… Brutal."

Ylenic waited as E-3PO translated this before touching the holoprojector, bringing up the next image which showed a group of Stormtroopers terrorizing a village of innocent beings, firing on them without discretion. The next was of chained groups of people being forced onto a ship. The final image was of a planet that had been subjected to Base Delta Zero, the entire surface wasted and the water muddy and polluted.

All the human eyes were glued to the images before one burst out yelling over his monitor, demanding to know why he was showing them this.

"The diplomat wants to know what the point of these images was."

"Giving a demonstration of what the Empire does," Ylenic replied quietly as his eyes leveled on the pale President before him. "We will do what we can to slow them down, provide you with schematics for ships and other technologies, but the people of Earth will need to prove themselves capable of survival."

E-3PO translated this message and the room was quiet for a moment before questions began to be fired from almost every person present, even the Presidential guards. E-3PO was quickly overwhelmed and it was several minutes before the tirade was slowed by one of the guards turning down the volume on the monitors as order was called but the damage was done.

Ylenic could see panic in some faces, disbelief in others, and one was slapping himself.

Nudging E-3PO, he spoke once more. "There are those of us who resist the Empire and we will try to get you time to prepare as well as technology you don't have currently."

The noise settled some as he spoke then all eyes were on E-3PO as the droid spoke, several asking the same question after the droid had finished.

"They want to know how much time."

Ylenic shook his head, uncertain how much could possibly be bought. A year seemed optimistic.

zzzzzzzzzz

Ylenic's visit on Earth lasted another day before he, Gin, and the droid departed. The mood for both parties was grim.

The humans of Earth now knew they were under a terrible threat. Despite several of the politicians wanting to keep it undercover, they were overruled rather soundly. Ylenic was pleased by that. He had joined several of these leaders, standing by them as they made a public announcement of what was coming.

As soon as they were far enough, Gin initiated a microjump to get them clear of the range of the probe so they could make a call.

Ylenic was slightly nervous as he entered the code that Bail had given him, worried that it might be too late in the daily cycle and the recipient might be asleep, but Mon Mothma answered immediately.

"May the Force be with you," Ylenic stated immediately, their code for this mission.

"How did it go?" Mothma asked.

"About as well as we could have hoped all things considered. I believe they are already making plans to dig themselves in."

"So they're going to fight?"

"I'd be surprised if they didn't. The people of Earth are scared but determined, I could feel it in many of their leaders. Those that aren't intend to step down."

"Do we need to send designers for any special modifications to weaponry in case they can't use stock blasters?"

"No, they're human."

Mothma's surprise was apparent even over the comm. "I have never heard of human worlds being out that far."

"The galaxy is a big place," Ylenic reminded her.

"It seems to get bigger with each new world," Mothma admitted. "I've arranged for a several flash education machines to be delivered on the first ship, it'll make communication easier if these people can speak Basic. You'll need to meet with the ship and transfer your droid so its memory can be used to set an algorithm."

"Very well. It'll also help them since I left the documents on ship and fuel production with them. Their best translators were working on them I was told, but an engineer and understanding Basic would make it significantly easier for them."

"Agreed. I've contacted Resistance cells on Corellia and Mon Cala, they have voiced similar concerns. I also tried to contact Ahsoka Tano but… She apparently had a run-in with Vader and the two fought while Knight Kanan and Padawan Ezra escaped. She is believed dead."

Ylenic closed his eyes, wishing Ahsoka well for her unification with the Force, then returned to the task at hand. "Will the shuttle be small?"

"Very," Mothma admitted. "Only a pilot and one engineer. The space will otherwise be dedicated to equipment. And that's the reason I brought up Ahsoka."

The Jedi felt confused for a long moment before stating, "No."

"Hear me out, Jedi Ylenic," the Senator stated. "The Jedi are badly depleted, almost gone. The purges did not just wipe out Jedi and those in the various corps around the galaxy, they also reached planets. I've seen reports of Force sensitive infants either being killed or vanishing! Possible padawans are near non-existent.

This new planet, isolated and untouched, is the best opportunity to find recruits you might ever have. When the Empire gets there, that will most likely no longer exist, no matter what they decide.

My men are under orders to only test and bring those who are willing to Chandrila, or Alderaan if you prefer. Somewhere that they can be in contact with those who could train them."

"Mothma, please don't."

"If not you, then someone will! There could only be five or six maximum."

"The planet has a population of over 7 billion."

Mothma was extremely surprised this time. "That's more than Chandrila and Alderaan combined!"

"More than any planet with the exceptions of ones like Coruscant and Nar Shaddaa."

"That still only increases the number to twelve or fifteen at most. I was planning as many trips as possible-"

"And it would never be enough," the Caamasi Jedi informed her firmly. "I could sense it from space, these people… Force sensitivity is thick on the ground of that planet. You'd find one just by turning your head. Not powerful, most not at the levels required to be Jedi, but there. And somehow they don't notice.

They call it different names: empathy, psychic, chills, the list goes on and on. Their minds are either closed to the vastness of the Force or they aren't ready for it. They picked up on signals I sent through the Force though, ones that said I was no threat, friendly. Even ones who weren't supposed to smiled at me."

"The Jedi need recruits if they're to continue," Mothma pointed out quietly.

"Then we need to search more because they can't come from that planet."

zzzzzzzzzz

Earth panicked.

There was no other way to describe the situation. It wasn't the mayhem in the streets sort of panic though. In some ways, this panic was far worse.

Governments around the world began to mobilize armies. Homeless men and women were cleared from the streets in droves, many of them finding themselves receiving on the spot commissions to work on farms or build factories. Refusal was not an option.

Mines, some abandoned for many years, were opened and miners and equipment sent deep underground to expand the tunnels into habitats.

Construction on private or domestic buildings was ceased as the workers were sent to join the miners, building factories and habitats under the ground.

Every person who was not in school was put to work. And every person pursuing a degree in anything other than a STEM major or had a GPA of less than a 3.0 were promptly kicked out of university.

Only a week after the first representative ever received on Earth from another planet and half the world had gone mad. Surprisingly, this madness cured a LOT of the sickness around the planet.

Unable to continue a war on terrorism or willing to put up with the shenanigans of ISIS or North Korea, the United Nations delivered them an ultimatum: they were to either join the rest of the world in preparing to defend the planet or face immediate destruction.

Seeing that the private utopia created by his father and grandfather for their family was finished, Kim Jong Un surrendered, opening the borders and accepting assistance in preparing his nation for what was to come. Before the two-week mark of the alien visit arrived, North Korea's fields had been sown with fertilizer and seed while Chinese miners assisted the people in digging shelters. Most of the North Koreans opted to join their families in the South though and left fast.

ISIS on the other hand, refused to even consider surrendering. Their manic beliefs caused the fighting to escalate as they attempted to call the bluff, certain that Allah would bring them victory. Their fight ended at the two-week mark when the UN, after evacuating civilians and pulling back their troops overnight, reduced the entire area of the Caliphate to glass. Aside from some children who were found in basements, no survivors were ever reported.

The reason this orderly panic was worse than chaos was simple: people were familiar with chaos. They knew how to deal with rioting in the streets, with fights and tears. But the order, the quiet: it was stifling. It was the calm before the storm.

The first relief came the day the first ship arrived. Translators around the world who had assembled to decode the plans they were presented in Basic had made decent headway, but the new arrivals meant things would go much faster.

Two engineers were the first to learn Basic in the flash learning devices. They were followed by two military officers who began to grill the pilot on what he knew but soon knew they were getting nowhere.

Chaos truly came the next day when Barack Obama, upon realizing how real this threat was, made one last Address the Nation.

zzzzzzzzzz

What was it that made Biology a killer and Organic chemistry easy? That was the question on Tara Burns's mind as she glared at her Cellular Biology textbook before glancing around the library.

Just as it had been for several days now, ever since non-STEM classes had been canceled, the library was almost empty. Considering that until a few days ago, USF had had a student body of about 50,000, this was more than a little disconcerting. Entire buildings had been locked up with the power shut off.

The labs were now open 24/7, she was willing to bet the government had something to do with that.

What truly surprised Tara was that she was still a student and had not been given an assignment. At 30, she was hardly a first-time student, but she was highly intelligent. Just not focused before now.

"Great, decide at 28 that I'm going to be a doctor, and the world goes to crap right as I make the application to Med school," she grumbled as she stood from the table she had been working at.

The few students left glanced up as she headed towards the Starbucks that was located in the lobby of the library, but no one said anything. Some of them were older than her and hadn't been dragged away either.

Tara hated coffee. The smell was sometimes alright, but the taste was acrid, horribly sour, almost burnt. She had gotten the staff at this Starbucks to laugh once at the sound effects she made when they had accidently switched her Caramel Apple Spice with a coffee latte, but that had never happened again. They knew her face now.

"Hey, chai or apple?" the cashier asked whose name tag read 'Sharla'.

"Chai," Tara replied as she dug in her pocket and yanked out a five-dollar bill. "Tall chai."

The cashier took the bill and Tara noticed that she was the only one here. A few people were at the tables with their books in front of them, but Sharla was the only employee.

"Everyone else already gone?" she asked quietly and Sharla nodded.

"Yeah, library closes indefinitely tonight and with the lack of traffic in here, management saw no reason to keep everyone else. I'll be moving to the Starbucks in the Engineering building tomorrow."

"Along with almost all the classes," Tara informed her. "They're closing Natural sciences as well."

Sharla was about to say something when the tv, which had been placed in the lobby two weeks ago when the aliens had visited, buzzed and sent an alert.

Tara was handed her chai as she and Sharla joined the small crowd gathering in front of the set. Everyone glanced around, uncertain of what was to come and terrified that the hostile aliens they had been warned of had arrived.

A shiver went up Tara's spine and goosebumps raised on her flesh as she watched the Presidential logo flash on the screen with everyone else before the picture changed to show Obama behind his desk.

He looked worn and tired, worried, but decisive.

"Follow Americans, I intend to make this brief," he began and Tara felt her eye twitch. This definitely wasn't an announcement of more aliens. "These past eight years have been, at times, joyous and trying. Doing what I felt needed to be done to end hostilities did not always make me a good President in many of your eyes."

"What happened to short?" someone murmured.

"I have improved our foreign ties, reduced tensions; two things we dearly need right now. But I am a peace-time President. Doing all that has been done for the past two weeks has gone against just about everything I have stood for and I find that I cannot continue, especially knowing that I would be leaving the office with this mess which will escalate. Because of that, with the approval of the Senate, I have requested that elections occur several months early. But I will not be a lame duck President. So as of today, effective immediately, I resign from the Presidency of the United States."

Shock emanated through the group as the screen went dark then the students peeled away to return to their books.

Tara glared at the screen for a long moment before heading back to her own books.

"And to think I voted for that coward," she stated out loud as she sipped her chai, causing several people to snicker.


	3. Chapter 3

Excitement had been the reason that Kon Fairo had joined the Republic scout corps. He had thought nothing of flying missions into hostile territories or searching for pirate ships in the Maw.

Those missions had turned to scouting out the movements of the Separatists during the Clone Wars which he'd been fine with as well.

After the Republic had been replaced with the Galactic Empire, he started to have problems. Kon had anticipated that the pirates and smugglers he caught would receive prison time just as they had during the days of the Republic, instead they were sold into slavery and shipped off to destinations such as Kessel.

The line had been drawn officially when an entire crew of pirates who had robbed a luxury liner were tossed out of an airlock. One of them had been his wrongfully accused sister and when the truth came out, not even an apology was offered. He knew she was accused and executed because she was Force sensitive, even if she were no Jedi.

That day he had applied for early retirement so he could return to his homeworld of Corellia. He had instead found himself quietly transferred to the employ of the Senator of Chandrila. As it turned out, a former colleague had identified him to Mon Mothma who had pulled the necessary strings to ensure his reassignment.

He had joined the Resistance the next day.

This new mission that Kon was on struck him as more than a little odd but had the excitement he craved as well as drive a thorn in the side of those Imperial dogs.

His mission was to run midichlorian counts on the people here and bring potential padawans back to Chandrila to help bolster the dwindling number of Jedi. But just as Jedi Ylenic It'kla had informed him during their brief contact when they had collected that irritating droid (which had been shut down the moment it wasn't needed), Force sensitivity here was as common green on a Gamorrean.

Strength enough for training was the rarity.

The normal midi-chlorian count anywhere else in the galaxy was 2,500, here it was closer to 5,000. The level necessary for Jedi training was 7,000.

The first few tests had Kon wondering if he'd be headed back to Chandrila within the hour with six possible recruits. The reality set in four hours later.

Hearing that they could get a ride to another planet left him with no shortage of volunteers, and as the first day passed, he gained two assistants as the flash education devices taught Basic in just two hours.

It was through talking to them that he found out just how common Force abilities were on Earth. They were confused at first until he described some of the latent abilities his sister had had and then had opened right up on the subject.

Seeing something out of the corner of your eye? Common. Stopping before running into someone that you don't see? Common. Something misses hitting a person despite the trajectory indicating that it should have struck? Common as rain.

It took four days to find the first potential padawan; a 13-year-old boy. His parents had been uncertain and taken a bit of convincing, but they allowed their son to be taken to his ship once they realized it would get him away from here before the Empire arrived. Kon managed to slip him in for a session in a flash training device after pointing out the officials who had taken charge of them that if he got intercepted in route to Chandrila, someone who didn't speak Basic would look very suspicious.

They promised that every recruit he took with him would be slotted in.

Three days later, a second crew arrived with more flash training devices and clean energy plant plans as well as four engineers and a medic who began a search as well for high midi-chlorian counts.

A second possible candidate was found that day, but the man was 70 years of age and refused to go if it meant leaving his family. Soon after though, a third candidate was found. This one was a 40-year-old woman without a family and she was more than willing to go.

Kon checked in with the second crew as the woman was rushed through a flash learning program and found they'd had no luck yet. Unfortunately, his time was up. The engineer who had accompanied him would stay for now, returning on the new ship, hopefully with a few more potential padawans.

Several people came to see off his ship, amongst them were the parents of the boy, whose name was Ethan. He had waved good bye to them from the cockpit, shouting promises on how he'd return as soon as he could and call them.

Kon didn't have the heart to tell the kid that he wasn't likely to ever see them again as he took off.

zzzzzzzzzz

True to the promise made by Obama, within two days of his resignation the Presidential Candidates met for the first of two debates. The goal was to have the next President elected within two weeks. So the first debate would be that night, the second in three days, and then the polls would open.

Tara had joined some of her classmates in order to watch the debate. It was better than going back to her empty apartment.

Popcorn and drinks were passed around, a number of the professors joining them as well as the debates started.

As the lesser known or Independent candidates made their cases, the pattern of their speeches quickly became evident and people began to talk quietly, their eyes flitting to the screen every so often. Some pulled out homework or textbooks as well. Tara was one of them and soon had a group of other students from Organic chemistry and their professor sharing the table with her.

"So, because of hindrance, an SN2 reaction will never occur on a potential leaving group that is attached to a tertiary carbon. Those reactions are limited almost completely to SN1 or an E1 reaction. So what kind of reaction would a secondary carbon with a leaving group favor?" Professor Flowers asked, determined to give her few remaining students the maximum amount of time to get familiar with these concepts.

"An E2," someone piped up.

"Yes, and does anyone remember what are the two types of E2 reaction?"

"Zeitsev and Hofmann," answered Eric, a man of 25 who sat next to Tara at that moment.

"Correct, and what is the difference between them?"

"A Zeitsev will favor the more stable product, forming a double bond with the more substituted carbon. Hofmann does the opposite."

"And what is the condition necessary to form a Hofmann?"

This time Tara spoke up. "A big, bulky base."

"Alright, so what would be the major product if I were to mix-"

"Hillarys' on!" a shout came and all notes were abandoned as the group turned to face the screen.

Given that the race was only really between this woman and Trump, it seemed natural to pay attention now. It still made Tara sick though that this was honestly what the elections had been reduced to. Two candidates and she cared for neither of them. Trump was a bully and Clinton a criminal in her mind.

She looked even less trust worthy than ever in Tara's mind as she stood behind a podium in her pressed suit with perfect make up despite all that was happening.

Clinton didn't even wait for a question to be asked.

"Fellow Americans, we are faced with a terrible enemy and an uncertain future, one where we cannot always be certain of the dangers, especially as we gain the ability to leave our home, our planet. The Earth is from what we were formed from and to it, each of us will one day return.

When this new enemy arrives, quite possibly with the intent of taking our world from us, we will need to fight…"

Tara's attention wandered as she realized that Clinton was spouting the same drivel as the rest of the 'candidates'. Glancing around the room, she saw some people were riveted to the tv where Clinton's rehearsed speech continued to pour from her mouth but many were also glancing about, disappointment in their eyes.

'Last election we may ever have, and it's probably the most boring despite being the most critical,' she realized as her eyes returned to the set. 'They talk of fighting but offer no plans and no explanations.'

A tingle shot up her spine again and Tara instantly focused on the tv, and felt her jaw go slack as Trump moved into the frame and punched Clinton square in the cheek.

Shock emanated and even on the debate stage no one moved as Trump looked square into the camera.

"I'm not going to cut corners, we're in for some tough shit. Across the country, colleges are being forced to kick out all non-STEM majors so we can streamline those students through as quickly as possible. Pretty soon, if you're not in STEM, you'll be a soldier or a ditch digger.

We don't need artists or musicians right now; we need engineers, doctors, and scientists. Researchers who can try to reverse engineer the tech we're receiving schematics on and improve them where we can.

Earth needs to gain teeth and prepare. I told Obama that myself and now I'm telling the nation. Telling people to shut their eyes and trust what is being said ain't going to make the monsters go away, but that's what these people are trying to make you do!"

Security guards had rushed out onto the stage and were attempting to drag Trump off, but he continued his tirade.

"They ain't got a plan! They're grabbing at straws and hoping! They'll try to make everything seem fine even with the gun at their heads!"

Trump's yells became muffled as Clinton finally got over her shock and attempted to continue her speech.

Tara felt the gooseflesh racing up her arms and had since the moment that Trump entered the frame. Her teeth began to chatter as murmurs broke out, despite Clinton trying to throw a tantrum on stage about "Trump the Beast."

Tara knew in that moment that Trump had won the election, even before that second debate. He'd win by a landslide.

And somehow, they'd all suffer for it.

zzzzzzzzzz

Mon Mothma glanced at Bail Organa as their shared ride pulled away from the Senate.

It had been almost a month since the discovery of Earth and they had been carefully analyzing each and every proposal to be presented. Neither Earth nor the Sol system nor the coordinates for the system had been mentioned to date.

Despite teams analyzing all over the Earth and managing to send five ships without incident as the probe moved farther out into the system, they had only found six potential padawans who were willing to leave Earth. None were exceptionally strong, and after briefly meeting with possible Jedi teachers, all had been rejected.

"Their minds are not open to the Force," was the explanation each time, so none could possibly become Jedi. When she asked if their minds could be opened, the appalled look she received was answer enough. But Mothma refused to send them back. Each of the recruits was provided with a new identity and some were accepted into new families to help them adjust.

"Corellia wants to send some teams," Bail informed her in a low voice. "Combat specialists to teach the military how to deal with blaster combat and how to fight a Stormtrooper in close combat."

"And how to fly most likely," Mon replied.

"Is there a better group?"

"No," she admitted as her eyes glanced out at the bustling traffic lanes.

"The Corellians are also pushing for unification," Bail continued quietly. "They want the Resistance cells to organize into an alliance."

"A Rebel Alliance," Mothma whispered with a small smile. "If only we didn't almost completely lack in manpower and finances."

"The Empire is attempting to recruit as well. They know there is resistance and are trying to stomp them out with sheer numbers."

The airspeeder set down on the parking pad before the palatial Senate apartments and both exited the vehicle. No one paid them any mind as they headed to Mothma's apartment since most knew the two had been friends for decades.

"It seems that fewer issues are presented on the Senate docket every year. I fear what it will mean if the issue of the Sol system is not raised. Imperial forces attacking without warning would spell disaster."

"Then perhaps we need to raise the issue?" Bail suggested as they seated themselves.

Mothma glanced out of the large windows of her apartment. "Perhaps. If we don't see any indication of this action occurring in a public manner within two months, we should report hearing of this system. If word gets out and the Senate is in open debate over how to proceed, then maybe the military won't dare to act."

Bail Organa knew better than to rely on that sort of gamble; they needed to appeal to as many in the military as possible. And as sickening as he found it, High Human Culture was becoming one of the most predominant of societal beliefs in the military and the Imperial Nobility.

"We might need to appeal to the military about Earth being a pure human culture," he finally admitted.

zzzzzzzzzz

The second debate came and was likely the most widely viewed debate in the history of the Presidential race. This time, security guards stood between each of the candidates to prevent any outbursts such as what had occurred during the first debate.

Tensions were high and attitudes rampant as the candidates changed to game plan.

Sanders shouted about how he'd felt that the human race should dig as deep into the Earth as possible and set up a new, socialized government to distribute what few resources that were going to be left while fighting the Empire guerilla style.

Clinton went on a tirade on how the technology they were receiving should be used to set up habitats and colonies off world, making Earth look more advanced. She tossed in bits about planetary shields that would also be possible due to the new power plants for clean energy that were being built.

Trump explained his plans the most, declaring that across the nation, and the world for that matter, people should be funneled into the various projects that needed to be dealt with. They needed workers who could weld, tend to crops, work in factories, and shoot.

Mediocrity in college could no longer be allowed and those who couldn't keep a fast pace so they could be assigned to projects as soon as possible needed to be removed so that those who could were focused on.

The plans went on and on, jumping from the selection of the people who would be the first to enter the underground facilities to increasing the number of nurses by having them trained directly in hospitals, thus throwing out legislation that was being implemented that would require that nurses have Bachelor degrees.

Election day had been the next day and all proceedings had been rushed through, votes tallied within 3 days since any delay would be unforgivable. People waited hours in lines that stretched for blocks in order to participate in this vote.

Trump won with over 70% of the vote, a landslide just as Tara had thought. He hadn't wasted time with an inaugural speech.

A week after the new President took office, Tara and the rest of the med school candidates, there were only 100 of them left, had been instructed to quit their jobs if they had one and report to the Research buildings. They were met there by just about every remaining student at the school in every field from Pharmacy to Biology to Civil and Electrical Engineering.

There were maybe 1,000 students, ranging in age from 17 to 54, all of them worried over what this could mean. Murmurs and rumors raced through the crowd at unprecedented speed, some of them wondering if perhaps they were about to be kicked out and USF closed. More rumors were that they were going to be put to work in the labs, studying the new technology. That seemed more plausible since the other students had been told to simply go home.

The teachers finally began to exit the research building and a hush raced over the crowd as everyone awaited an explanation. Tara was close enough to see that her normally jovial organic chemistry teacher looked… Giddy. As though Christmas had come and was waiting for them just beyond those doors.

The Dean of Chemistry didn't need to call for attention when he stood on a bench, he had it immediately.

"I know you're all wondering why you're here," he called out, not quite shouting but definitely wanting to be heard, "and the answer is that our labs, like many others, have been designated by the President to receive funds and samples from the extraterrestrials! Copies have been delivered of blueprints for machines as well as chemicals and formulas for many types of drugs! In a few minutes, we'll be posting several lists with your names and the researcher you'll be working with. Classes will continue as normal, otherwise you need to determine the times you'll be working in the labs and learning your duties."

Around her, Tara felt the crowds' excitement rise with the Dean's words and the push to see the lists that were set up to be viewed through the windows of the building entrance began.

The woman waited a moment before joining the hustle as people found their names and either joined their new supervisor or headed off to other buildings that had been reopened specifically for this purpose.

The lists were in alphabetical order so her name was listed at the first of the ten stations. Her finger zipped down the list amongst others and found her name on the top quarter of the list.

Burns, Tara- Chemistry building- Dr. Gaines- Bacta research

"Bacta?" Tara read, her brows furrowing in confusion. Why did that sound so familiar?

Moving towards the line of professors, she saw that some of the students were proudly standing next to their teachers, obviously having been assigned to them.

"The technology is amazing! A hovercar that goes far higher than we thought one could by tapping into the magnetic field naturally produced by the planet!" she heard one professor excitedly telling his group of students. "They call it an airspeeder!"

Tara saw that she wasn't the only person who reacted to the name, a number of the eyes of the students widened for a moment before looking to brush off the name as a coincidence. It could be considered a rather generic word if one thought on it, but 'bacta' definitely wasn't.

All around, she heard words that were horrifyingly familiar, things such as hyperdrive and blaster. Some she wasn't familiar with but chills were still running up her spine.

Dr. Flowers noticed her approach and smiled brightly. "Did they assign you to my project too?"

"No, I'm with Dr. Gaines," Tara replied.

"Too bad, we're going to be researching and experimenting with techniques to produce sublight fuel! They have one way to make it currently, but they want us to develop high yield techniques that can be used in non-zero gravity environments. Can you believe it? Zero gravity!"

"That sounds great," Tara admitted even if it wasn't her field. Why did they have an organic chemist working with that? Was it some form of biodiesel?

"What about Dr. Gaines? What will you be researching?"

"Something called Bacta."

"Ooh! I was hoping to get that one but this was a close second. You'll have to tell me about it!" Dr. Flowers told her before turning to another student who Tara recognized as a classmate who had apparently been assigned to her.

Around her, groups began to splinter off and head for either the entrance to the Research building, Engineering, or to various other destinations.

It was all a coincidence was Tara's decision as she headed for the Chemistry building. It had to be.


	4. Chapter 4

At almost two months after the discovery of the Sol system, Mon Mothma and Bail Organa got their answer on why it was taking so long for a decision to be made on the system. The original probe had only been a resource scanning probe. With the discovery of life, another probe was being deployed to scan the civilization.

Currently, Mothma was scanning a requisition order and almost sighed in relief. It would take the probe another month to reach the system since it would be dropped by a ship that was close enough to the system but not close enough to draw attention. The teams of Corellians, engineers, and medics would have time to disguise their ships or to get out.

The bad part was that only one of the new power plants would be online in that time at best, so the planet would not yet have shields or defense turrets, much less a sustainable space habitat that sensitive compounds could be synthesized on.

Bail glanced up at her from his own reports and sighed.

"Those Ylesian slavers are attempting to recruit on Alderaan again despite us banning them," he informed her and Mothma pinched the bridge of her nose.

A Corellian resistance cell had picked up a woman named Bria Tharen some time ago who was badly addicted to something called 'Exultation.' When she had explained what it was and the trap it concealed, the alert had been sent out to every planet that could be reached.

Even a basic scan on what was happening on that planet caused alarm, especially in that there were nowhere near as many beings present as there should be. What kept them from shutting the place down was the Empire itself, the official reason being religious freedom.

Mothma glowered at the stack of reports in front of her. Pirating was on the rise, slavery on the rise, and corruption rampant. Even Kuat Shipyards, normally an honorable company, had begun to use slave labor rather than pay workers.

"They haven't dared to return to Chandrila after the ion turrets were turned on them," she informed Bail who shook his head, though a small smile crossed his face.

Turning her attention back to the report, Mothma tried to make note of the name of the ship that the probe was being deployed from but noticed something odd. It wasn't there.

Starting from the top of the report again, the Senator read through the report again, looking for any sort of key phrase or location of the ship, anything to identify it before her brows furrowed and she realized why this report had been given to her by a member of her intelligence: none of those were present.

The report was deliberately blank in regards to names and locations! That meant someone high level had authorized this in secret.

Mothma handed the report to Organa who accepted it and studied it for a minute, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Do you see the name of the ship or who authorized it?" she asked quietly and Bail's eyes widened. "Someone wants this-"

"Secret," Bail finished as he set the report aside and stood. "We need to find out who. We must. Without that information, we cannot even hope to block them. So we must assume we have two weeks to call them into the Senate."

zzzzzzzzzz

Jedi Knight Ylenic It'kla and the Mon Calamari Teek Hij were more than a little overwhelmed at the moment.

Mon Cala was determined to help whatever resistance may form, wherever it may be, and as such, had sent an engineer with the most recent deployment from Alderaan to Earth. Teek Hij's specialty lay in the construction of underwater bases, thus they were deployed to a part of the Earth known as 'Phillipines'.

The pair had been stared at by the local people for several hours as the flash learning devices were employed of several people so that communication could be established. It was right as the first of the Earthlings had been finishing up the program to teach them Basic, a little girl had managed to tear herself from her mother and ran up to them in order to hug Ylenic's leg.

This first contact seemed to delight the Jedi who bent down to the child who cooed at him in her native tongue.

Proverbial floodgates opened in that moment as a thick wave of humanity determined that the two were in fact 'safe.'

Teek heard shouts and laughter all around as the people surrounded them, many wanting to touch. It bothered his sensitive skin horribly and thankfully, most got the message.

Ylenic on the other hand, didn't feel as though he'd seen so many younglings since he was a youngling at the temple or had observed some of the classes when he'd considered taking on a padawan near the end of the war. His Force sensing abilities were also going off since it seemed every other person, youngling or grown, had some sort of Force sensitivity.

"Best to watch yourselves," a new voice floated from behind the pair, and they turned to see that it was one of the first volunteers for the learning devices. "According to our neighbors, your team is meant to help us prepare."

"That's correct," Ylenic replied as he finally stood, extracting himself from the group of younglings. "We are trying to help set up shelters for the people of your planet. My associate here has quite the talent in his particular field."

Teek Hij was flattered that a Jedi would refer to him as an associate and stepped forward, nodding to the man who looked to honestly be attempting to repress an expression of interest.

"Pleased to meet you. I am Teek Hij and will be assisting you in the construction of an underwater habitat. It should protect you from almost anything short of a Base Delta Zero."

The man blinked for a moment in response before saying, "It talked…"

He was promptly elbowed by the man behind him.

zzzzzzzzzz

Bacta was exactly what the Star Wars franchise had described it to be. A gelatinous goo that could heal injuries at astounding rates.

What was not mentioned was what it was made from. Those who were participating in the research knew within the first five minutes that it was no chemical, just a basic scan under a microscope provided evidence of that. Rather, it looked like some form of bacteria.

Heat fixing and Gram staining a tiny sample told us whatever made up Bacta was gram negative. Drug resistance tests yielded no results; it was immune to all the antibiotics the lab had available to test against it.

Attempting to cultivate the Bacta also proved difficult.

Guides for growing Bacta had come with it and the instructions were clear: while growing, Bacta was aerobic and required a zero-gravity environment. When used, it turned anaerobic and could operate in both gravity and zero-gravity so when it was used, patients were usually submerged in water or had airtight bandages.

No further explanations were offered on what Bacta was or how it worked. Or whether they could produce more from the samples they had.

Dr. Gaines had been supplied with ten students to assist him with this project and made full use of them, ordering that everyone brainstorm ideas on how to get around the zero-gravity issue. Considering their limited resources, the fact that cultures were required, and the growing bacta would require oxygen as well as zero-gravity, it was a problem that quickly left them stumped. Even their professor was lost.

It occurred to Tara around day two that the reason there were no suggestions on how to grow the bacta in gravity was because their visitors hadn't had to deal with the problem of not being able to leave their planets or not having space stations where they could grow bacta for quite some time.

Waiting for a space station to open up was not an option.

Thus, the group attempted to set up various different 'environment' tanks. They lined the bottom of one tank with hoses that had holes drilled into them that were attached to a pump that would circulate air in hopes that it would be enough for the bacta to grow. Another tank was filled with peroxide. Four more were brought in and two of them had the hoses run through them before a mix of chemicals was added that should produce oxygen as a side product and the last two tanks were filled with the same mix.

Results were limited. The bacta didn't grow in the peroxide and offered little growth in the tanks that had air bubbles flowing through them, though more so in the chemical baths that produced oxygen.

Classes continued every day and some of the groups boasted about the progress they were making, but tensions were higher than ever.

Tara glanced back at her Organic chemistry class and felt the urge to groan. There had been over 800 students at the beginning of the semester divided between two professors before the alien panic had started. There were now 150. Total. In the school.

The students whose eyes had been on Nursing school had been removed just days before, assigned to hospitals for on-the-job training. Veterinary students were similarly removed, sent to God only knew where, hopefully for on-the-job training as well. This was all after the initial removal of students with GPAs of less than 3.0.

These days both professors would come in to teach, trying to create some feeling of normalcy while teaching students who could be drawn away for training and assignments any day.

Dr. Flowers and Dr. Baker were both late that day, trying to decide on whether to have everyone work on assignment sheets or listen to a lecture. They split the difference and Dr. Flowers had begun a lecture on Grignard Reagent and free radicals while Dr. Baker passed out the papers.

Tara stared at her sheets of paper she had been handed, running through them as the lecture continued, her notes being written along the side of the pages. It was as the termination mechanisms of free radical formation were being discussed that Tara felt the idea hit and her hand shot up.

"Can any two particles be used in free radicals?" she blurted out without waiting to be called on.

"Good question! Most not so well, for instance, bromide typically doesn't work as well as chloride in methane solutions. In that reaction, chlorine replaces hydrogen on the carbon. And let me tell you, that was terrible for the ozone layer when it got out! Converted the O3 into O2-"

There was still fifteen minutes left in class but Tara couldn't wait. Besides, the worksheet was already done!

Her mad dash only lasted a minute as she raced out of the auditorium-like classroom and to the Chemistry building, climbing the stairs to the third floor two at a time. It was then she heard the clambering of feet behind her and glanced back to see three of her labmates right behind her. They shared the same class so she knew they had seen her abrupt departure.

"We already tried forming O2 in mixture!" one of them called after her.

"Not in mixture, under the gel!"

"What?!"

Tara burst from the stairwell a second later and didn't even slow down to pull on her labcoat before entering. She headed straight for the guides they had been supplied on bacta and turned straight to the instructions on how to grow it.

"What's going on?" Dr. Baines demanded as she leafed through the few pages of information they had been provided with.

"Don't know," one of the other students replied before Tara slammed the small guide in front of them.

"We were thinking physics and that was wrong!" she started. "Just putting oxygen into the environment isn't enough, it need to be caught by the bacta!"

Dr. Baines groaned as he sat back. "That is what we've been trying to do-"

"Like physicists! It's chemistry! We can't make something weightless on Earth yet, so we have to make do with replicating it, but it still needs air!"

"What-"

"It only says to use a culture! Not what type! We might be able to make one that could react with the environment to _produce_ oxygen! And it would be trapped under the bacta…"

"Preventing escape!" Dr. Baines finished before jumping to his feet. "Get your labcoats on, we have a long night ahead of us!"

zzzzzzzzzz

Gin Kain had been sent to the larger continental landmass on his second trip to the planet Earth. He'd landed near a large city named Paris.

He could honestly say the food was fantastic even if the city seemed deserted. His guides informed him that usually the streets would be bustling with activity but the sudden push of the government had caused most to take jobs farther from the city.

The engineers he had brought this time had zeroed in on a particular site for building a power station that had caused the people to sweat: Chernobyl.

It was argued that the place was perfect since it would not disturb any of the standing power grids and could easily be connected to those power grids as the older sites were decommissioned. That idea soon had to be abandoned when they realized that the resources they were used to such as containment fields and construction droids which could have broken down the old reactor and made the area perfectly safe, were not available.

Europe simply didn't have much in regards to open space and no one wanted to live next to a power plant. Then Russia had offered a stretch of land just inside their border.

Glancing down the street, Gin sighed as he watched two Earthlings almost run into each other, and didn't. Neither was paying attention yet they slipped by each other seamlessly. Things seemed peaceful once people had calmed down a bit, almost like any other planet he'd been on. But there was immense distrust.

He had thought the Russians were just trying to be helpful, but the Europeans were suspicious. History that he didn't know of existed here and his guides were slowly teaching it to him.

Wars apparently were rather common and Russia had done some things in recent years that had been more than a bit aggressive, such as forcefully annexing areas. If allowed to have the power plant built within their borders, many were certain that the Russians would hold it over them.

With that in mind, a new site was found rapidly.

'These people are going to have the Imperials tearing their hair out,' he thought as he followed his guide down the street and saw yet another couple people, this time it was five of them and though two collided, the other three either wove around them or stopped short and helped the unlucky pair to gather their wares.

'They go from calm and friendly to suspicious quickly, and with so many having innate Force abilities, it's going to be devilishly difficult to hit them in open combat.'

The thought made him grin.


	5. Chapter 5

Kon Fairo had anticipated making another run or two to Earth to try to help the Earthlings prepare for the onslaught of the Empire; teach some to shoot and to identify some of the tactics employed by the Stormtroopers and pilots.

An impromptu trip to Bothawui to visit a new noodle shop hadn't made the list of possible places he could go.

He was given no explanation; none was ever needed when one went to Bothawui. It unsettled him to no end when he realized why they hadn't even asked for his ID at the port.

After all, there was no one better at knowing what was going on anywhere in the galaxy than the Bothan Spynet.

Currently he sat in the little noodle shop he'd received directions to go to. He didn't even know the name of the place nor had it been written on a sign. And though small and out of the way, it seemed to see more than a small amount of traffic.

The instructions he'd been given was to order a medium bowl of dun-dun noodles. When the server said that they had never served such a dish, insist that he'd had it when he had been there previously.

He mentally recited the instructions as the server approached his table.

"What can I get you?" the server asked in accented Basic.

"Medium bowl of dun-dun noodles."

The server looked more than a bit exasperated and Kon wondered if the Bothan was a really good actor or if he had the wrong shop.

"Far as I know, we've never had that."

"Are you sure? I could have sworn that's what I had here last time."

The server grumbled something that sounded obscene in his native language as he walked off. Kon now found himself very uncertain of what the employ of his server was.

"They change the menu again?" one of his neighbors asked.

Kon shrugged as the Bothan turned to face him. "Might have, hope they still have the ingredients."

"Seems to be the thing with this place; menu changes almost every week! Swear to you, they got to be discovering a new planet every week in order to keep putting new items on the menu."

The Bothan's eye twitched in a wink before his head slanted towards the door.

Kon stood in response and headed towards the door, exiting quickly.

Uncertain of where to go now, the Resistance pilot glanced up and down the walkways before his eyes caught on a being headed his way. This one was human.

"Kon! It's been a while," the woman declared enthusiastically. "I was just headed for a drink; won't you join?"

"Alright," Kon replied and he was all but dragged down the street by the woman who he became increasingly certain that he didn't know. "How have you been?"

The woman snorted. "Imps to dodge, credits to make, you know how it is."

They entered what had to be the seediest bar Kon had ever seen. The lights were low to the point he could hardly see anyone or anything in the gloom, but as his eyes adjusted, he noticed that no one was looking at them. In fact, not even the barkeep looked up to ask them what they wanted.

His guide led him to a booth halfway down the wall and they sat, her touching a small bracelet on her wrist before nodding. "Mothma definitely requested interesting info this time," the spy stated.

"What was it?"

The spy regarded him for a moment then gave a short chuckle. "Little goes on that the Spynet doesn't know about, we felt humiliated to find out that we'd been kept out on such a secret as a new planet."

Kon kept his mouth shut as he realized this had something to do with the Resistance's current project.

"Backtracking that probe was easy; the controller is stationed on a small outpost satellite in the Figire system. He only ever received basic information in regards to planets: elements, winds, rotation. Boring stuff actually. He did think one thing was unusual though: the probe picked up on radio signals from your new planet."

"Radio signals?" Kon had used probes as a scout so he knew the different types. Picking up radio signals was not something that weather and mining probes typically did.

The spy must have known of his previous occupation because she nodded. "It took more digging, but we did find the schematics for the probe. Needless to say, it was too large to just be a mining probe. It was equipped with two cameras, one the typical low res of a mining probe and the other was one that could take a picture of you through your window from a moon of whatever planet you're visiting. Also present was the interceptor for the radio waves and a second antenna. That antenna made transmissions at the same time as the primary antenna, and they went to the same station."

"To different people I'm guessing?"

"You got it!" the woman across from him confirmed. "The Empire is using these probes to watch out for any new bases that don't belong to them, ones that could belong to dissenters. We might not have caught on for a while had we not been asked to research this."

"But what was the point?"

"Lady Mothma wanted us to find out who sent another probe, but that report as it turns out was deliberately produced to appear highly classified when it was in fact fake. The Empire already _knows_ about what kind of people inhabit that planet. The probe picked up a lot more than just radio signals, it tapped into a network those people have. They didn't get much from what we can tell, just a LOT of music that sounds rather guttural at times and some viruses that though simplistic, have caused the station some problems."

"Then why haven't they attacked? And who produced that report?"

"The Empire believes that full blown rebellion is going to break out soon, they want numbers. They only accept humans into the military now. This planet is overflowing with them."

"We warned them, they'd never agree."

"They don't need an agreement with the right threat. Grand Moff Tarkin is rather renowned for that."

"That butcherer-"

"Is working on something big, and he wants it kept secret. He's been making thousands of slaves disappear and has been complaining, quietly, about still needing laborers. We still can't get anyone in, or rather, they can't get any word out. If he has his way, this'll be kept quiet and he'll get his laborers while the Empire gets millions of faceless troops."

Kon was already going for his commlink when the spy reached over and grasped his arm, slipping something into his hand.

"We already sent this information to Mothma when we realized just how serious this is. She in turn told us to inform you and tell you to get to that planet. Warn them. Tarkin will not even attempt to approach peacefully, his Doctrine is built on the use of fear. They are in for a fight regardless of whether the Senate can intervene or not.

She also said to continue with your first assignment. There has to be at least one."

That warning rang in Kon Fairo's ears as he raced from the bar and chose to forgo the airbus for a taxi in his rush to get moving. He glanced at the item that had been passed to him and found it was a datachip, likely containing the proof and detailed information for this operation.

zzzzzzzzzz

45 different formulas were drawn up and experimented with as growth mediums for the cultures for the bacta. The mix of chemicals to form the environment were tweaked and adjusted carefully to try to form the right balance.

The team flew through the experiments, researching compounds and reactions any time there was a minute. Notebooks filled with possible chemical formulas were now standard equipment for all of them, the wastebaskets of the lab were filled with rejected formula sheets.

Dr. Gaines spent time with each of them, checking their formulas whenever his own had already been synthesized. They all learned more about chemistry than many of them ever thought they'd need.

With the possible fate of their planet looming over them, the group worked hard and fast, just as groups across the nation did. It took an agonizing five days to find the right mix of compounds that was neither too acidic or too basic.

Dr. Gaines found the right solution when he combined the environment formula one student had drawn up with the medium another had designed. It looked insane but the bacta grew quickly, covering the culture in a matter of hours to their delight only before a new problem was found: when the bacta engulfed the culture, the oxygen producing reaction would stop because the medium would be isolated from the environment.

One of Tara's labmates, another woman named Sarah, had suggested using a straw to allow the solution that comprised the environment to reach the medium since they had found out early that the bacta did not seem to like plastic.

It worked at first, but there was no circulation occurring and the reaction stopped again.

Designs began to cover the lab walls even as the medium formula was again tweaked, this time to form a gel that could be molded into shapes. Tubes were experimented with but ultimately discarded since the oxygen formed could easily escape. Spheres collapsed as did most shapes because no matter what the shape selected, once in solution the gel would soften.

This time, the solution came from an unexpected source: sports. One of the students, Devin, had a roommate who was not a serious student and when he'd been expelled, he'd left a lot of his stuff. One morning, he called about whether or not a bag he'd left behind was still there and when Devin had pulled the bag from under a bed, a ball had fallen out and rolled around the room.

He had stared at the whiffle ball for a long moment before racing to the lab with the ball in hand.

Those present, Tara included, had glanced up when Devin barreled in and held up the whiffle ball.

"This is it!"

No one got a chance to ask what he was talking about before he continued.

"We cover this with the medium, cut out some of the holes, and the plastic keeps the bacta out!"

"It's not neutrally buoyant, so we'll need to anchor or tie it down," Sarah stated as activity started again.

"I've got fishing line in my dorm!" someone called.

"Get it!" Dr. Gaines practically yelled and the student rushed out, labcoat flapping. "Kyle and Sarah, start mixing the medium. Tara and Ben, set up the tank and mix the chemical environment. Sam, go buy more whiffle balls. Devin and the rest of you, set up two more tanks. We'll need to prove this is effective if it works."

They all rushed to get to their work as Dr. Gaines went to the stockroom and procured the necessary compounds then began to mix the solution for the two tanks that would be put on standby.

The student sent for the fishing line returned twenty minutes later, sweating and breathing hard as he handed over the fishing line. The whiffle ball had already been covered in the medium, so the group had to be careful as they anchored it. The bottom of a ring stand was used as the weight and the fishing line was looped under the stand and through two holes of the whiffle ball several times.

A bacta sample was set on the ball and then the environment mixture was poured into the tank.

The whiffle ball rose in the mixture but the fishing line held in firm as the liquid level rose higher than the tethers would allow the ball to go.

Professor and students alike stepped back and stared at the tank, despite knowing that the bacta wouldn't immediately grow. It seemed like they were all waiting for the whiffle ball to explode.

Dr. Baines called the group to order.

"We'll adjourn for two hours, give this time to grow. If there is a change, then we'll move ahead with the other two tanks."

Sam returned with the extra whiffle balls right as they were leaving and Dr. Gaines simply tossed them onto a table in the lab.

The campus was bustling with activity from the few students still present since some of the engineering students had decided to come out to test some of their creations.

Tara stopped to observe one group who looked to be setting up a board of some sort.

"What're they doing?" she asked one of the other people who loitered and she noticed that she had seen this guy in several of her classes.

"Don't know," the guy admitted. "They just came out and started setting up. Most we've gotten out of them is to not get close because it might explode."

"One of the reasons I prefer medicine, it generally doesn't involve explosions," Tara declared which got the guy to laugh. "Which project are you in?"

The guy's face darkened a bit. "I was put on the team meant to produce the power cells for blasters, but they REALLY didn't try to field which projects were feasible. We knew within a day that it was impossible to accomplish the production of those cells here on Earth. But listen, do you know what they call the mix of gases that is used?"

"What?" Tara asked as she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Tibanna. It's made from a special mix of hydrogen and certain other gases to form a volatile compound; the process is called 'spinning'. And it's used in hyperdrives also." The man's eyes narrowed a bit. "It's the exact same name and has the exact same uses as that stuff in Star Wars."

"I'm on the team researching bacta and it's the same deal," Tara replied before a shout went out and the two turned to see the engineering team were backing away from the board they had set down.

Except one. The girl stood on the skateboard sized device and though she looked nervous, there was a definite look of excitement in her eyes.

Once everyone was clear, a moment of calm fell before a soft whine began to sound. It was like the sound of a jet engine as it revs up but much softer. Then the board began to rise.

Tara felt her mouth go dry and her own heart beat in excitement as the team whooped in joy. The girl directed the board around the small grassy area, never going higher than three or four feet. After one lap, the rider brought the board in for a landing.

"It's a bit sluggish, but we'll get it!" she declared with a broad, infectious grin.

"How's that think powered?" someone called.

"Batteries, highly advanced batteries. We were provided some and the schematics for vehicles called airspeeders. We can't build those, the lab isn't big enough and we don't have heavy enough equipment. They wanted us to make sure those plans work, so this is what we got."

"A hoverboard, a real one. Any true nerd's childhood dream!"

"We have a nation of nerds working on this and trading notes! A team at MIT got one working two days ago!"

Tara glanced at her watch and found she had an hour before her next class. Enough time to grab something to eat from the small market/restaurant/Starbucks in the Engineering building and she would still be able to see the hoverboard tests.

She got a simple lunch of an apple, juice, and a small sandwich which she ate while watching as the team outside ran through several more test flights before heading to class.

The entire class was distracted that day, even the professor. No one felt like focusing on Cellular biology when an actual hoverboard was being operated on campus. Add to it what was happening in the bacta lab, and Tara was distracted to the point that, when the professor finally called an end to the lecture, she didn't notice until her neighbors were brushing past her.

Tara raced to the lab, hopeful of what she would find. It had been almost two and a half hours, so she wasn't surprised to find that when she arrived, it was just her, Dr. Gaines, and two other of the students.

The two extra tanks had been filled, whiffle balls covered in the medium. The whiffle ball in the original tank now had a fair sized growth of bacta.

Come the next morning, all three tanks would be filled with mature bacta.

zzzzzzzzzzz

Mon Mothma felt her nerves rise a bit as she glanced around the main meeting room of the Senate. She was dressed in her best robes today.

Unlike many key issues where she had prepared for weeks, if not months ahead of time by meeting with Senators that she felt could be swayed, there was no time. Her bribe to be allowed to speak and raise her issue had barely been enough to get her three minutes near the end of the session.

Thankfully, many parties that she knew held significant sway were already likely to stand with them. Not for the new planet though.

She and Bail had discussed long and hard how the issue should be produced. Letting on how much they knew would be dangerous beyond belief for all parties involved.

Declaring they had found the report on the probe would not prove anything, just that they had been looking at documents they weren't cleared for. Providing the proof that the report was fake would cause many more questions.

"Next subject on the docket: Mon Mothma of Chandrila is recognized to address the Senate."

Her platform pulled away from the wall to hover closer to the main seat in the center of the chamber.

"Delegates of the galaxy: we all come here to try to bring improvement to our planets. We agree on laws and the division of resources as necessary to bring glory to our Empire by bettering all."

Mon Mothma felt a bitter taste settle in her mouth for what she was about to say.

"Resources that many of us require: metals, minerals, and slaves. We must be mindful of these and watchful of when overconsumption of these resources are occurring. During a recent investigation, it was found that these resources, and many more, were disappearing at alarming rates. Not into a shipyard or any known construction project, but into a sector where their use is not made known.

Millions of tons of metal, parts, and highly expensive materials disappear into Arkanis sector every month, costing trillions of credits and an estimated 300,000 slaves to date. This cannot be allowed to continue; no sector can be allowed to bankrupt the Empire.

I am moving that Grand Moff Tarkin be arrested immediately and made to testify what he is using these resources for."

The uproar was immediate. Tarkin was not liked by most, and her speech should have gotten many supporters, whether that be because they knew the real reason behind this fiasco, the 'resources' being wasted, or simply in the hopes of making Tarkin lose face.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the original characters used in this fic.

Also, I'm starting summer classes tomorrow so updates might be a bit slower.

And to those who have been reviewing and PMing me about political beliefs written in this fic, remember this: everyone is entitled to their opinion. These are my opinions. If you get bent out of shape because a fictional character shares them, I'd suggest you take a sedative.

zzzzzzzzzz

Donald Trump was not a politician. Currently the US didn't need a President hung up on policy and procedure. Thankfully, the situation was serious enough that he had been able to get the Senate to recognize that the speed of decisions needed to be sped up.

Resistance had been immense when he decided to expedite training in the various STEM career fields. Nursing alone had been like pulling teeth despite there being previous programs, well-proven in their effectiveness, that were performed in hospitals. Success had paved the way for on-site veterinary training.

Assigning the remaining students was beyond a headache. Half the Senate screamed and howled over sending people without Bachelor degrees into research and development labs to work with the new technology. Research programs had been suggested to him and he had pushed hard to allow the students to prove their mettle.

He was not disappointed.

The students had moved in leaps and bounds, many of them surpassing their older, professional counterparts. It had stopped most of the objections when pointed out that the students were plenty brilliant, but waiting for them to get their degrees would be wasteful.

Programs were being designed rapidly by professionals that would teach the students everything they would need to succeed in their fields that would still see them working and producing.

Trump had explained the issue to the last envoy who had visited the White House, hoping they had more of the flash training devices that would be focused on the areas they needed. No such luck. The devices could only currently teach Basic and had taken many years to develop, translating Basic into a light show that taught the language in mere hours.

What he had received instead was building kits meant to teach primary level engineers how to construct several small devices and twenty dummies used to teach medicine.

After the medical and engineering professional had learned what these devices did, programs had been designed quickly. And with the approval of the Senate, the new programs had been temporarily approved.

zzzzzzzzzz

Three days after the bacta growing procedure had been deemed successful, teams all over the world who had been trying as well experimented with the whiffle ball construction, some with their own recipes. On the fourth day, teams from the CDC and the military invaded the USF lab and collected their tanks, guides, notes, and samples.

Tara had been there with Dr. Gaines and the other lab assistants as the raid occurred, reading through how to harvest and refine the bacta for use when the teams arrived. Each of them was thoroughly searched for notes and samples, their names were taken down, and they were thanked for their service before being turned out.

Classes continued, the programs moving at near insane speeds. The dates for finals had been stepped up but a professor could excuse students based on their demonstrated ability.

Tara was almost surprised that the now newly liberated student assistants were not reassigned to other projects. Instead they joined the few other students who were no longer involved in research.

Dr. Gaines was given the credit for the creation of the procedure to grow the bacta and had subsequently disappeared. Rumor was that the military had taken him to assist in the growing of the bacta.

The reward for the student assistants had come in different forms, Tara's had been an acceptance letter (pronounced order) into the accelerated medical program that was being set up. It was described as free on-site training that would have her working with actual patients as soon as possible.

No $100,000 debt. No fellowship. No time wasted.

The letter made Tara's skin crawl but she pushed down her trepidation as she checked the dates and instructions.

She was allowed to bring one carry-on sized bag that contained her clothes and toiletries. No cell phones, no computers, no iPads. All essentials such as uniforms would be provided. She was to be ready to go in front of the library at 5pm.

Those were the instructions given to all the students who had been accepted into various programs and they seemed to be a minority, only 200 according to the headcount that had occurred when the letters began to arrive.

Showing the letter to her Cellular Biology teacher had earned her congratulations and her excusal from the looming final even as her stomach continued to turn. Now it was 3pm and she was heading to see Dr. Flowers to hopefully be excused from the Organic Chemistry final.

Surprisingly, Dr. Flowers was in her office, discussing her teams progress with another teacher.

"We're getting some results but other schools seem to be far ahead of us, especially that one team in Russia. I'm not sure if they're for real though because they keep claiming results but offer no proof or procedure."

"From what I've heard, they're serious. They focused the vast majority of their researchers on select projects and that was one of them- Oh."

The eyes of both professors turned to Tara as they noticed her.

"We'll talk later," the second professor promised Dr. Flowers before heading down the hall. Both Tara and her professor watched the man walk for a minute.

"Heard you guys on the bacta research team had a breakthrough, way to lead the pack!" Dr. Flowers started in her usual peppy way.

"Yeah," Tara replied her smile genuine though her stomach continued to flip. "You said you wanted to hear about it?"

"Oh! That's right!" Dr. Flowers exclaimed. "Dr. Baines disappeared so suddenly and they took all your notes, we've all been very curious!"

"The bacta gel was comprised of bacteria-like microorganisms that needed to be grown in an oxygenated zero gravity environment." Tara continued to explain the various attempts, answering her professor's questions, who laughed out loud when Tara explained the idea she had gotten in the middle of class.

"Should have known, the way your brows knit and then your eyes wide; it was a classic 'Eureka' moment!"

The failings to get the right compounds caused a knowing nod before Dr. Baines put it together as did the dysfunction of the shape of the culture. The whiffle ball solution drew a laugh.

"Sounds like the lot of you learned a lot," Dr. Flowers finally concluded with a smile as Tara glanced at her watch. It was 4:20.

"You really should have received more credit for this," the doctor continued and Tara touched her pocket where she had stored her letter. "Perhaps we should request the lot of you be reassigned, bolster slower projects."

"About that," Tara began. "I think we all received these letters of assignment." She pulled out the letter then and handed it to her professor.

Dr. Flowers accepted the letter and read through it, her brows furrowing.

"Well… Congrats." The words sounded hollow. "This'll be a great opportunity, of course I'll excuse you from the final if you go... But I don't think you should."

Tara was glad to hear the words. It meant that someone else got a bad feeling about this.

"I applied to Morsani and I'm pretty certain that-"

"They're closing Morsani."

Tara felt her mouth go dry and words were hard to find. "Wh-what?"

Dr. Flowers nodded faintly. "They're sending the students straight into hospitals. I don't know how they'll specialize anymore," she explained as she handed the letter back to Tara.

Tara was now honestly torn. Passing up this program meant passing up med school. She might be able to change her major, but there was the distinct possibility that she'd be removed altogether and assigned a job.

"Thank you," she stated as she stuffed the letter into her pocket then left. She was more aware of her backpack, packed with her essentials. Of the boxes of her stuff that she had left in her apartment, easier for her parents to remove.

She… She couldn't pass this up.

Glancing at her watch, she saw it was now 4:30, less than thirty minutes to get to the library which was a five-minute walk.

She ambled slowly down the paths, not yet headed towards the library, instead deciding to see if the hoverboard crew were out, testing their board again as they seemed to do every day now. They were out, but the hoverboard was absent. What they had instead were duffels or backpacks. They were chatting excitedly.

Nearby was a crowd of people that were in a rough line.

Tara headed towards the small group.

"You guys get letters too?" she asked and the group turned to her.

"Yeah, all of us. It seems like they chose entire teams rather than individuals. You too?"

"Yeah, med school," Tara explained.

"We're engineering, but all different. We were going to head over in a few minutes, just… I think you know."

Tara nodded as her eyes moved to the line again. What was going on over there?

A girl she recognized as the rider of the hoverboard followed her eyes as well. "I hear that one of the aliens is over there. He looks just like anyone else though, just a regular human."

Tara still craned her head, hoping to see one of the people from space. She completely missed it when a group of guys exited the building dragging a cooler. They didn't miss the people Tara was standing by though.

"Going away present!" a voice shouted and Tara turned to see one of the boys get pelted by a water balloon.

zzzzzzzzzz

Kon had not liked the new President of the United States when he had delivered his message. Though the man was smart enough to have gotten himself in for a session on the flash learning device and they could speak directly, he had struck Kon as not an entirely decent person.

Donald Trump was blunt, straight-forward, and seemed ruthless. He was a businessman though, not a politician. Kon wondered what the heck had happened to cause this guy to win the election.

Their meeting had been attended by more than a few Senators and several other nation leaders either in person or by what looked to be a flat screen that displayed their images. Thankfully, they all understood Basic as well.

Telling them about Grand Moff Tarkin had gotten a few confused looks that were quickly covered by sabacc faces. The questions had begun fast.

They all wanted to know if he knew when Tarkin would try to attack, what did he hope to gain in regards to workers, and what the Resistance was doing to either stop or slow him.

Kon had explained the Senate and how their leaders were going to attempt to get Tarkin trouble through the Senate. Would it slow him down? Probably. Stop him? Not a chance.

More than one of the politicians and businessman before him expressed relief. They admitted that they were working on more powerful weapons currently since they couldn't produce the ammo for blasters. The exact mix of gases to form Tibanna was not easily obtained on Earth.

Following the meeting, he had headed begun a trek down the east coast, stopping every so often to test midi-chlorian levels in people. He had heard that some of these people had figured out how to grow bacta in a non-zero gravity environment and wanted to take back samples and schematics to be compared for effectiveness against standard grade bacta.

The head researcher of the project, Dr. Gaines, didn't speak Basic and they had used an interpreter for their conversation. Kon personally thought it was funny but also resourceful to use students along with professional teams to study and make the breakthroughs for growing the bacta.

Dr. Gaines apparently also had been forced to leave several items he considered important on the university campus and asked if they could pick those up.

That was what led to him being on a mostly deserted college campus, using the few minutes he had to test some of the students. Once the students heard they would have the opportunity to leave Earth if they passed the blood test, he didn't lack for volunteers. He had found three who almost made the 7,000 mark, but not quite.

A shout followed by several shrieks and laughter drew his attention and he and the rest of the crowd in front of him and his two assistants glanced at where a small group of students were attempting to avoid being pelted by fragile looking balls filled with water.

Several more laughs came as the attackers were circumvented by several of the students who got to a box and pulled out more of the fragile balls.

'Just some kids having some fun,' he thought as he watched the twisting and running figures, watching the balls get tossed and explode on impact. Until one didn't.

Kon felt his mouth drop as one of the balls that had been thrown at a slightly older looking girl bounced off her body and broke upon the ground. A ball that was fragile enough that it sometimes broke in the hands of those who intended to throw them had BOUNCED off of that girl's body.

The pilot moved a second later, trying to push his way through the crowd towards the girl as one of the people he assumed were her companions shouted something. She and several more of the students took off then.

"Wait!" he shouted after the group as they ran before he began to pick up his own feet and run after them. "Wait!"

The group ran down a path then crossed a street towards a tall building where a decent sized crowd had formed. His target tripped once, seemingly over nothing, before getting up and continuing to join the crowd.

Kon raced after her, determined to run the test. There was no way that that ball could have just bounced!

The crowd was organizing in front of several large vehicles and several soldiers were directing what he assumed were students towards different vehicles. His target was directed towards one near the end of the row, no longer running.

Picking up his feet again, Kon attempted to run after her but was stopped by two of the soldiers.

"I need to talk to her!" he yelled at them, pointing at the girl who was quickly approaching a vehicle, a page of what Kon could have sworn was paper in her hand.

The men didn't know Basic. They jabbered at him in their tongue, one of them holding out his hand, indicating he wanted something.

Kon wasn't sure what the men wanted so he instead pointed at the woman who was showing the paper to another soldier and was boarding the vehicle.

Voices came from behind him and he saw that his two assistants had caught up. They were talking to the soldiers before looking at him.

"Why'd you run off like that?" one asked, sounding not unlike a disapproving parent.

"There was a girl, one of those water filled balls bounced off of her so I want to test her!" Kon exclaimed before pointing towards the transport the girl had boarded, but to his dismay, the vehicle had already pulled away. It was leaving!

"Get that thing back here!"

His second assistant spoke to the soldiers again, the second listening before informing him of what was said.

"These students have been assigned to intensive study programs. If she's in that van, then she accepted the assignment and there's nothing they can do."

Kon huffed in anger as he watched the 'van' roll onto the street, turning hard turnabout, and finally head towards the main street. He then began the trek back towards where he had left that crowd of students.

As he stopped at the curb for the street, his eyes caught a small gleam in the dying sunlight and he turned his head to stare at it. A small drop if blood. The girl must have scraped herself when she fell!

The testing strip was instantly in his hand as he knelt next to the small drop, gently touching the strip which greedily sucked in the blood.

Inserting the strip into his testing device, Kon pressed the yellow button to start the scan and felt his eyes widen at the number.

10,500.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the original characters used in this fic.

Also to know, the midichlorian scale I'm going by in this fic:

Normal person (non-Earthling): 2,500

Normal Earthling: 5,000

Minimum level for Jedi training: 7,000

Average Jedi: 10,000

More Powerful Jedi: at least 13,000

And to the Guest reviewer who can't extrapolate from incomplete data: This story is written in 3rd person restricted point of view. If the character focused on doesn't know something or someone, they can't refer to it by name.

zzzzzzzzzz

Tara was one of seven people in the van. It wasn't a large van but they weren't crushed. So aside from the driver, there were six students.

The van left the USF campus and headed for I-75.

The water balloon fight had temporarily taken Tara's thoughts away from the assignment but now she was in the van and had plenty of time to think, especially since she didn't have something to distract herself. Because of this, her feelings of trepidation increased and each time the van stopped at a red light, she felt the intense urge to jump out of the van.

Something was seriously not right.

The moment the van made the final turn and joined I-75, Tara knew that no matter what came, it was too late now to try to go home.

The van drove north, refueling at a gas station just south of Gainesville where the passengers and driver were able to purchase snacks for on the road. Tara didn't know how long the trip was going to be and found herself grabbing quite a few items ranging from apple slices to chips and candy bars. Her common sense told her to put most of it back, but the need she felt to keep it won out.

The group loaded back into the van for a short drive before stopping at UF.

Tara and the other students were offloaded from the van and directed to a bus that had several jeeps parked nearby where a small crowd of people was gathered. Most were quiet, a few were talking about where they had come from. Whispers of FSU, UCF, and Miami echoed around the group.

Tara glanced around, wondering if this was the entire group coming, that they were consolidating all the students for the accelerated medical program from the state of Florida. She was counting a grand total of 32 students. If this was all the med students that were being collected in each state, then the program should have about 1500 students, but quite likely fewer.

Some of the students were excited, even happy about the chance they were getting. Half were nervous and looked to be just as uneasy as her. The soldiers that were present was likely one of the reasons for that.

More than once, Tara glanced at her watch and wondered if they were waiting for anyone. It seemed like there were students from all of the major schools in the state here and it was almost 8pm.

Minutes ticked by and several people began to walk around, one even attempting to head to the restroom. Tensions rose as a soldier stopped the guy even though he let him through after a moment. Tara noted that the soldier watched the building until the restroom goer returned.

'Making sure we don't leave,' she realized as her eyes began to scan the crowd. If everyone followed the directions, then they'd have no means of communicating with anyone. Someone had to have disobeyed!

Most of the people were sharing her look and scanning also, and if the disobedient one had a lick of since, they'd have the same expression and would be looking around also. Her eyes soon came to rest on three different people. One was a girl who looked like she would normally have her ear glued to her cellphone. Another was a guy who didn't strike her as a good actor since others were focusing on him as well.

The last she mentally designated as her 'buddy.' He was staring at the guilty looking guy, following the flow of the crowd. If he had a phone or something of the sort, then he was the most likely to keep it, provided they didn't scan-

Tara mentally winced as she saw the holes of that plane quickly. Shutting off most electronic devices could get them through some scans, disassembling even more. But the key components needed to be shielded with something metal or a foil….

A moment later, Tara was discreetly stepping up next to the guy, her hand dipping into her backpack for one of the bags of chips. Their best bet was for this guy to keep whatever he had.

"Here," she told him quietly as she offered a bag of Doritos.

The guy did a double take and looked at her in confusion. "Do I know you?"

"No, but you might want to excuse yourself to the restroom, disassemble something, and hide the battery and memory card in this foil bag."

His eyes lit up with understanding and he accepted the bag, stuffing it into his backpack before heading towards the nearby restroom. Once again, a soldier intercepted him but let him pass. Meanwhile, the girl and first guy that Tara had identified were being searched by soldiers.

Sure enough, the girl had two cellphones, an iPad, and her laptop. The boy had an iPad and he handed it over quietly while the girl screamed about how the electronics ban was ridiculous and a violation.

"You read the rules of what was allowed if you accepted this assignment!" one soldier yelled as he hauled the electronics away from the girl.

"But how am I supposed to call my parents and friends?" she demanded as one of the soldiers held her back from running after her things. "How am I going to keep up with everything and study?"

The soldier didn't answer as he shoved the electronics into the back of a jeep.

The boy she had given the bag to returned several minutes later, innocently shaking water from his hands. He didn't approach Tara and that was probably for the best.

Headlights approached the group a bit after 8:30pm and the crowd watched as a Jeep pulled up. The headlights remained on as a man climbed from the jeep and the soldiers saluted.

"At ease!" the man shouted at the soldiers. "Med students, when your name is called, you will step up to be searched along with your bag. If it is determined to be too big, you will only be allowed to take what you can carry." Producing a clipboard, the man glanced at the list. "Aaron, Kimberly!"

The girl whose phones and other electronics had been confiscated stepped up. "Your men took my phones and-"

"You were not to bring electronics! You should be thankful they took them already or I'd have had you walking home! Now hand your bag to one of these men to be searched."

The girl, Kimberly apparently, looked ready to cry but handed over her bag as another soldier began to pat down her form. She really looked distraught when she saw her bag was being searched again.

Tara glanced at the guy she hoped was carrying a phone and saw her looked mostly unconcerned.

"Avif, Abraham!" came the call as the first girl boarded the bus. This time, a tall boy broke from the crowd and handed over his bag without incident and allowed himself to be searched.

"Brown, Luke!" was another boy, this one a bit heavy and wore thick glasses. He sweated heavily as he moved away from the crowd.

"I-I have an electronic toothbrush," he squeaked as he handed over his bag.

"Does have it Bluetooth or internet?" Luke shook his head. "Then I don't care!"

"Burns, Tara!"

Tara said nothing as she approached and handed over her bag. She noticed that the soldier looked a bit surprised at her snacks but otherwise found nothing. The soldier who searched her was fast but thorough. She didn't dare to glance at the crowd as she boarded the bus.

The first three had already settled into the bench seats that Tara remembered school buses having. Moving two-thirds of the way down the bus, she chose a seat that had a window that was an emergency exit.

9pm crept past and the bus filled. Tara didn't dare to watch the rest of the searches. The darkness outside seemed wrong. This bus felt wrong.

Tara groaned as she tried to think. No communication devices allowed. They were being moved at night. No one knew where they were going.

"Alright boys and girls, listen up!" a voice shouted and Tara's eyes shot to the front of the bus. "You'll be departing in a few minutes; I'd suggest you get some sleep because you'll be starting the program the moment you arrive in the morning. Electronics were banned to prevent distractions. You'll be allowed to use the phones at the facility to call your families at select hours."

Now the officer's face turned faintly somber. "Good luck, we all need it."

zzzzzzzzzz

It took one day for the Senate to have an arrest warrant issued on Grand Moff Tarkin. Included in the list of crimes was embezzlement, larceny, and abduction after a few reports came out about children being removed from their homes and forced through horrifically difficult education programs.

Unlawful imprisonment was added when it was revealed that those children had never been released despite having no known debt nor a Certificate of Indenture issued on any of them.

Mon Mothma and Bail Organa were only distantly optimistic as the crimes were compounded. Tarkin was a favorite of Palpatine and had gotten out of being charged for massacres.

It hadn't surprised them when the team deployed sent a message back, a week after the issuing of the arrest warrant, to inform them that Tarkin had locked himself into his office on Sentinel Base. What was surprising was that neither the Emperor nor Vader were attempting to help him or ordering the charges dropped.

The silence worried both of the Senators and their allies. But what was the trick?

Fleets around the galaxy continued their normal patrols and were accounted for, but the amount of resources Tarkin had had brought to Arkanis could have easily built a new one. But there was no sign of the metals, minerals, and the people.

Tarkin had to have moved whatever he was having built.

Whatever it was, it had to be something dangerous and very big. Delaying construction by forcing it to be relocated bought time but may also draw the ire of anyone else involved.

Lucky for all of them that Tarkin was also an egomaniac. Whatever his plans, be that attacking the Earth, the Resistance, or his project, he wouldn't allow it to continue without him. With secrecy being paramount, they'd also try to better hide the destination of so many materials.

"We're going to need to build the case very carefully," Bail admitted. "Doubtless that Tarkin is planning his own to disprove all allegations. He's intelligent."

"Cold and goal-oriented was well," Mothma added. "Our 'charitable contributions' may fall under fire soon, even if we've kept them as small as we have."

Bail Organa rubbed his temples in response. Twenty medical training dummies were normally easily missed as were the flash training devices for Basic. Tarkin would likely find out about those. They seemed innocuous enough to a normal person, but add those to the 'donations' that Chandrila had made, and things would begin to look a bit suspicious. Luckily, the worst of things were not as easily traced. Schematics that were public domain would not be missed and engineers took vacations all the time.

zzzzzzzzzz

Ylenic It'kla could honestly saying he was having a good time. Helping Earthlings organize in order to resist the Empire and protect themselves was pleasing. Though he couldn't talk directly to the people, most were sensitive enough to understand his intents.

After the Philippines, It'kla had been moved around a bit, meeting with several more of the world leaders. Some he liked, some he didn't, but for the sake of the fact that these people were going to try to stand against the Empire, he had spoken to them all.

He had reviewed normal tactics of the Empire, the weaknesses in Stormtrooper armor, and what they would need to know if the fight ended in their surrender.

"The longer you fight, the more respect you will likely receive," Ylenic admitted, "But Imperial troops will also become much more brutal. Tarkin in particular has shown little regard for which side anyone is on. He proved as such on Antar 4 when he ordered mass arrests and executions without care as to whether those arrested were loyal or rebels."

"We're not rebels," one of the men and women assembled pointed out. "We are people defending ourselves and our home. Surely he can respect that!"

"Tarkin was willing to commit his atrocity on a known moon where the media easily caught wind of what he was doing. Your system is unknown."

"Can't we become known?" a woman, he believed her to be Angela Merkel asked. "Announce our presence in some manner?"

"You could," Ylenic admitted. "But you would need to do it with your own technology. Making the transmission with something we, the Resistance, provided, would raise questions of your level of advancement and who has been visiting."

Now Ylenic looked down the table, noting each face. "You've done well considering the youth of your culture, but the level of technology you currently maintain would cause you to be considered primitive. The Empire will exploit that.

That is the reason we bring schematics and engineers to direct and teach rather than just building everything for you: your people have to learn to produce and design these things on their own. An isolated but advanced people will survive; primitives are shoved aside if not killed outright."

The expressions on the faces in the room were a mix of trepidation, fear, and determination as well as slightly insulted at being described as primitive. But all of them understood what he was saying was true.

zzzzzzzzzz

The bus drove all night. Tara wished she had sat closer to the front so she could have possibly seen the speedometer. She did note that they remained on I-75 for a fair amount of the drive, so they were somewhere in Georgia most likely.

It was extremely dark due to there being no phones or iPads out and people quickly fell asleep. Tara herself slept on and off, following their route by passing on her observations to others who were awake.

Andrew, the boy who she had given the Doritos bag to, hardly slept that night and did the best at keeping track of the route the bus traveled. He had taken a seat two rows in front of her and had a small whisper network active within ten minutes.

Andrew had prodded her awake at 4:08am because they were leaving the freeway and he wanted to know what time it was. Tara sat up to try to get a look but the sun wasn't up yet, dawn not even a hint in the sky. All she was able to make out were the outlines of trees.

Tara woke up again at 5:51am. It was still dark outside but the sky was beginning to lighten. The bus had stopped.


	8. Chapter 8

A gate. The bus had stopped in front of a gate.

Tara wiped her eyes as she gazed out beyond the gate, at the facility where the medical program was going to be run. She saw several buildings, many of them looking relatively normal, but to her abject horror, one had an obvious wall topped with barbed wire.

Glancing at the gate they were currently stopped at, she noted more barbed wire. The soldiers were also visibly armed.

Beyond the gate was a sizable parking area and there were three buses already parked there.

A few people were walking about, several of them soldiers and they seemed to be patrolling. One person carried a backpack and Tara was somewhat relieved to see he wasn't being escorted nor was he headed toward the building that looked more and more like a prison.

Up front, the door to the bus opened and most heads on the bus turned to focus on the soldier who climbed in. The soldier said nothing as he glanced down the bus, looking like he was mentally counting every person. After a moment he nodded and descended back down the stairs and out of the door.

Before the bus, the gate began to move back along a rail, just enough for the bus to pass through and then the soldiers waved the bus through.

The bus quickly pulled into the parking lot and stopped next to the bus on the right, making their bus the farthest right. The engine cut out a minute later and everyone glanced around, uncertain about what they were supposed to do. The answer came in the form of an officer who looked as though he had been waiting for the arrival of the bus.

Tara noted that the officer was a woman this time, her dark hair just beginning to grey while her eyes were a sharp grey.

"Everyone out! Line up in front of the bus!" she barked up through the door.

The response was a weary and wary shuffling as everyone grabbed their bags, glancing around at the response of others. Nobody wanted to remain on the bus but most were reluctant to leave. A line to exit took almost a minute to form and then people ambled to random spots before the officer.

"Hurry up!" was the shouted command and the response was that those that were off the bus appeared to wake up a bit and more hurriedly moved to join the line. Those still on the bus moved more quickly as well and within two minutes, the woman had her line.

"You're here for one thing: to become doctors and medics. If war breaks out, you'll be the first called upon to serve our country. Further details will be gone over in Orientation which begins at 0900. You have until then to get to Check-in and the Store room to get your equipment. At the very least, you are expected to be in uniform at Orientation, attendance will be mandatory. Sergeant Marshall shall direct you to the Check-in!"

The woman's eyes focused behind the line for a moment and Tara dared to look. Another bus was pulling up to the gate.

"Dismissed!"

The group broke rank a moment later and eyes focused on the man that the woman had indicated as Sergeant Marshall. He was a tall man with dark skin who appeared to be in his late-30's, possibly 40's.

"The letter I got didn't say anything about joining the military!" a voice complained and Tara momentarily focused on that Kimberly girl again. She looked even more upset than before and was attempting to get her hair in order using a small travel brush.

"Have you ever heard of martial law?" the boy next to her snapped, looking more irritated by the second as she continued to brush her hair.

Sergeant Marshall chose to ignore the words as he turned and led the way down a walkway into the campus.

"But we didn't have a leader change! We voted and got to choose whether to come here or not! I want to be a pediatrician!"

"The President IS the head of the military!" another voice pointed out. "And he's called for all able-bodied people to prepare for war."

Tara felt shivers run up her arms then glanced to her side where Andrew was quietly walking. His sharp eyes were glancing around them, mapping out the area. Tara on the other hand glanced at the walled facility they were passing and noted a number of rather tough and angry looking men. Some of them made catcalls at their group or shouted some rather disgusting suggestions.

A number of the students glanced in at the yard the men were in as well as they passed the gate.

"Is that a prison?" someone whispered and Andrew glanced at her. Tara nodded slightly even as her stomach twisted horribly.

"Looks like it. Why here?"

Now Tara wished she had done as her gut had told her to do and jumped from the van as the group was directed into a medium-sized two story building. She could think of several reasons to have a prison on a sight where medics and doctors were to be trained and some of them didn't sit well with her at all.

"Have your IDs out!" a shout came and Tara found that two tables had been set up. The group was lining up in front of one and were then expected to move to the second table.

Digging out her driving license, she watched as the first person was handed what looked to be a lanyard after the man sitting at the desk had pulled out a box with the word 'Florida' printed on it. They stepped to the next table and she noted that the lanyard had several small documents attached, one being an ID.

Nine people were ahead of her and they seemed to fly through them, the person handing over their ID and moments later it would be passed back to them along with a lanyard. The next desk seemed to be team assignments and then each person was directed down the hall to the storage/equipment room.

The red-headed soldier grabbed her ID the moment he could reach it and flipped through the first few lanyards fast before pulling out one for her. Just as with those ahead of her, there were documents attached in a clear plastic envelope.

"Room and team assignment next table."

Tara took a step to the side and her lanyard was grabbed by the woman behind the second desk, checking her name, before grabbing a folder from the desk and shoving it into her hand.

"Equipment room is down the hall. Present your paperwork to receive your uniform and equipment. You're on Team Echo, room 214."

Tara felt like she was on automatic as she turned to the indicated hall and began to walk. She had avoided the military her entire life, certain it was a bad choice for her. Yet here she was, arguably in the military herself now, in return for med school because the world could be ending.

Two people were ahead of her for uniforms and equipment, so Tara flipped open her folder. Inside were a number of sheets of paper, detailing what she would be doing here. It listed hours that the phones could be used, a map of the 'campus,' a schedule, and her room assignment. The first classes would be that very day: antiseptic techniques and field medicine. Tara's relief was palpable.

Glancing up, she noted that the person ahead of her was just handing his paperwork over, so she returned her attention to the folder.

Moving ahead into the courses section, she noted that they were going to being practicing sutures just the next day and felt mildly ill as the list continued on what they would be reviewing in the next couple months.

Bone setting. Tourniquets. Disease recognition. Human anatomy and basics of surgery.

The last one made Tara blanch, especially when she saw that they would be covering it in less than two months. There were no classes on ethics or respect, just medical techniques.

A clearing of a throat caused her to look up and she hurriedly handed over the lanyard that the man was motioning towards.

The stockroom manager glanced at her papers then grabbed a duffel from the rack behind him.

"Small, medium, or large?"

"What?" Tara asked, not certain what was being asked.

"Uniform. Small, medium, or large uniform?"

"Uh… Medium?" Tara wasn't sure what else to say, she wasn't exactly small and there was no chart to indicate sizes.

The man nodded and grabbed several wrapped packages, shoving them into the duffel that already looked to be full before it was handed to her. "If the uniforms don't fit, trade them in the barracks storeroom."

Barracks. The word pounded in Tara's head as she walked down the hall the storeroom manager, or whatever he was called, had indicated. A door leading outside appeared a moment later and she stepped out into the morning light.

"Barracks are that building," the soldier next to the door informed her automatically and Tara felt her head begin to ache.

Tara had considered joining the military when she was young but had determined it wasn't for her. She really didn't like the idea of getting up at 5am.

Shifting the duffel under her arm, Tara headed for the 'dorm' (which sounded much better to her than barracks). It was a plain building, five stories tall and rather unimpressive. The entrance was a simple glass pair of double doors and just past them was a small service desk with a staircase just beyond that.

Lists were posted on the desk and a woman was directing people to confirm their room numbers. Tara moved quickly down the list, confirming her room. 214, just as the soldier handing out lanyards had told her.

Hefting her duffel, the woman climbed the stairs to the second floor, passing several other students in route. She noted that everyone looked wary and suspicious. Many were also wearing what looked to be dark blue scrubs.

There were a few people in the hall of the second floor, several glancing at her before returning to what they were doing. Tara noted that the room numbers started at 201 and 214 was roughly a third of the way down the hall. So if one assumed there were about forty rooms on the 2nd through 5th floors and possibly thirty-four on the 1st floor to equal one hundred ninety-four rooms. If there were 4 people per room, then that equaled about 770 students or so… That was a HUGE class for a medical program.

Glancing at her lanyard, she remembered that she was on team Echo as she noted the large 'E' on her tag. How many groups were there and how large?

There was a key in her lanyard and Tara used that to open the door to 214 and grimaced at her first site of the place.

She had hoped to be wrong about the number of people sharing. She'd been right it seemed. Two bunk beds had been shoved into the room and four desks, one set at the head and the foot of each bunk bed. Four small dressers were also crammed inside, one beside each of the desks.

Tara almost groaned as she moved towards the bunk bed on the far wall and set her duffel on the bottom bunk then glanced around the room again. There was a decent sized bathroom in the room, next to the door at that. It looked almost like a converted hotel.

Deciding to make use of the facilities while she had a moment of privacy, Tara pulled out one of the uniform packets she had been given and headed for the bathroom.

zzzzzzzzzz

It could be argued that a military officer did not make a good politician. Many would support that thought, especially if they maintained some form of military control without a means of being checked.

Grand Moff Tarkin did not share those thoughts. His prowess and capability as a soldier and officer were the exact reasons he felt himself better suited for office than a soft politician. He could, would, and did make difficult decisions and accepted the consequences, whether those be positive or negative.

He was proud to say his decisions almost always brought the results he wanted. The Emperor understood and condoned his actions, saw their necessity, unlike those bleeding heart Jedi.

That his resource consumption would attract attention enough to lead to the issuance of an arrest warrant was actually rather surprising; that the Emperor did not step in was even more surprising considering what Tarkin was building at his behest.

Construction was too slow and it would be delayed further because of this façade. He needed to have this dealt with and then make plans to gather new workers that wouldn't raise alarms the way the slaves had. The Death Star also needed to be moved to a more secure location that wouldn't be monitored the way his Arkanis system was.

The perk of being the Governor of the Outer Rim: he had plenty of places to choose from.

For now, it was time to play nice for the time being and approach the situation involving the Senate as a gentleman, an officer, and the Grand Moff.

Standing from his desk where he had just received a report from his agents as well as an order to keep silent about the new system, Tarkin headed to the door of his office and finally released the security locks. The guards on the other side stood at attention and straightened as he came into view.

"Grand Moff Tarkin, I've been issued a warra-"

"I already know why you're here," Tarkin snapped, his gaze cutting into the man like a blaster bolt. "I shall answer the Senate's questions, but I shall go in my own shuttle."

"I'm afraid I can't allow-"

"I'm not asking," the Moff informed the man. "I intend to clear up this matter as a Governor and military officer, not a criminal. You may either go along with my wishes or answer to my displeasure at a later date."

No further objections were voiced as the Moff marched past the guards towards the lift that would take him to the hangar level of Sentinel Base.

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Kon had managed to find four more Force Sensitives with midichlorian counts in excess of 7,000 but unfortunately, no matter how he asked or what he offered, the one woman from the college had not been produced.

The pilot had sent an alert to the various teams they had on the ground, telling them to keep an eye out for a woman with brown hair. That was the best description he could offer, he couldn't even say what field she would likely be studying and practicing in.

For her sake, if they couldn't evacuate her then he hoped that where she went would be one of the deeply buried facilities, far from the places that the Imperials would try to collect people from. Trained or not, if they caught her she'd be killed.

Ylenic It'kla had joined them for the trip to Chandrila. The Jedi was completely dismissive of the possibility of training any of the possible recruits they had onboard, though not to their faces. He was also dismissive of the woman.

"She would be too old for traditional Jedi training," It'kla informed Kon as they made the jump to hyperspace, gasps and calls of excitement coming floating up to them from the passenger cabin. The Caamasi spared a glance at the door before continuing.

"None of them can become Jedi, at least not this generation."

Kon wanted to know why and had asked several times but each time had received a stony look. Instead, he sat back in his chair and used the first few minutes to check for any messages.

"You have a message from Organa," he informed his key passenger moments later.

It'kla sighed and looked at the message. "My friend sent it to several people to ensure I would receive it. He is telling me to avoid returning to Alderaan for a while. Mothma has offered the use of a safe house on Chandrila which is why I'm joining you."

Shutting his eyes for a moment, the Jedi drew a deep breath. "Ghost crew might make a run by the planet, they could easily smuggle some supplies to them that would be otherwise noticed if it were to go missing on a normal basis."

Kon grinned faintly at the thought. He knew of the legendary Ghost crew, even if they were only whispered about. Anyone who could bring down the High Inquisitor was more than alright in his book.

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The uniform most fit fine though Tara was a bit annoyed by the scrub pants. They seemed a touch snug to her.

While she was changing in the bathroom, the first of her new roommates arrived. Her name was Laura and she came from North Carolina. She claimed the other bottom bunk then moved to the bathroom to change as well.

Checking her duffel, Tara found some basic white sheets, several notebooks, a pack of pens, and an iPad with a power cord. Moving to the desk at the foot of her bed, she immediately plugged in the device then began to check the drawers of the desk. Empty.

The dresser was similarly empty so Tara quickly stacked her few belongings in the drawers before turning her attention towards making her bed. Laura exited the bathroom, also in uniform, when their third roommate arrived.

Ching was a girl whose family had come from Vietnam, making her a first generation American. She was confused about the situation and much like most of the students, highly suspicious.

"Better head down soon," she told them as she grabbed the packet containing her own uniform and headed for the bathroom as she tugged her shirt up. "They want to get everyone organized for orientation."

"We can't be all here yet, can we?" Laura asked as Ching shrugged.

"They staggered the buses from what I can tell. Had us all organized before we even got here. Makes things fast," Ching called from behind the bathroom door as she shut it.

Tara finished straightening her bunk as Laura looked through her duffel as well then glanced out of the window.

"I think they just arrested someone!" she called out a moment later and Tara's head snapped toward the window. A moment later, she was next to Laura, staring as a girl was being dragged out of the administration building where they had checked in by two soldiers. It took a second for her to recognize the struggling girl who looked to be cursing.

"That girl was on my bus! She tried to bring cell phones and a computer."

"Was she caught?"

"Before we were even on the bus."

"Did she bring more?"

"Doubtful," Tara replied. Kimberly didn't seem smart enough to sneak anything in.

Ching exited the bathroom then. "What're you two doing? We need to get going!"

The trio all departed the room then, each checking that she had her key. The hall now seemed to be flush with students.

A crackle sounded over an intercom then and a voice announced, "Attention, Orientation is in 15 minutes. All students are requested to make their way to the mess hall."

There was a bit of a press getting down the stairs following that announcement and Tara quickly lost her roommates but found herself not too concerned. The crowd streamed out of the dorm and down a pathway to a building that was next door, unfortunately across from the prison-like building.

There were bench seats throughout the mess hall, reminding Tara of elementary and middle school cafeterias. They were filling quickly so she grabbed a seat at a table halfway through the room. There was an obvious stage area meant for making announcements.

Glancing around, the woman noticed that while most of the students had changed into the blue uniforms, a few hadn't. In fact, they looked to have just been rushed through check-in and hadn't had the opportunity to so much as put down their bags. All around, people whispered and compared notes on what they had seen.

People began to appear that Tara thought looked like instructors and the bench seating proved to not be enough for everyone. Some of the people who couldn't get seats leaned against the walls or sat on the floor.

"Dorito?" a voice asked and Tara's eyes swung over the table to meet Andrew's. He was offering the bag of Doritos she had given him before boarding the bus. Looking him in the eye, she raised an eyebrow in question and he nodded in response.

"They're safe," he informed her with a grin.

Tara shook her head in response. "I typically don't eat those things."

Andrew's eyebrows rose. "Lucky you had them then." His eyes flashed around the room, looking to be weighing every person. "They're evaluating us already," he stated after a moment.

"I'm aware," Tara replied quietly. "I saw them dragging that Kimberly girl away from the check-in building."

"She didn't have an ID."

"What?"

"ATTENTION!" the shout came from the front of the mess hall, the stage area and Tara almost pulled something in her neck as she whipped her head around to look.

There were two people on the stage, one a soldier and the other seemed like he was quite likely a doctor. Surprisingly, it seemed as though the doctor had been the one to speak.

"All of you were brought here because you are believed to be the hardest workers, the ones who will push the hardest for results. Starting today, you will need to use that dedication to the fullest.

We found out mere months ago that we are definitely not alone, and since then the news has mostly been bad. An Empire whose goals and ends we have been warned of could come at any time and we need to prepare for the worst.

Until the day the Empire arrives, the focus will be training all of you to be competent medics first, then doctors provided there is time. There will be no breaks in this program and due to special circumstances, special measures have been approved."

The man looked a bit uncomfortable now.

"You will be expected to accept your medications and practice hard, both on the training dummies that we have been provided with from our allies and with live subjects."

Now the doctor looked immensely uncomfortable.

"I don't doubt you've all noticed the prison that is on these grounds. I'd advise avoiding it as much as possible. Held within are some of the worst violent offenders of the southeastern United States. Some are on death row but the rest have at least one life sentence. You'll all be expected to assist in their care; patching up all injuries, treating and taking part in all illnesses and immunizations, everything that medics and doctors would be expected to do."

Tara wasn't the only one who looked shocked at what they had just been told.

"Once each of you achieves an acceptable level of ability, you will be deployed to hospitals or bases, either to specialize or to be introduced into a military unit. Your specialty will be decided upon based on your preferences as well as your demonstrated ability as noted by your instructors."

"In other words, they'll weed out those who are slower to serve as military medics and those of us who make it through will be assigned specialties," Andrew muttered and Tara silently agreed.

The doctor and the soldier switched places then, the doctor taking a step back as all eyes shifted to the soldier.

"Soldiers are posted to assist in keeping order. Schedules shall be strictly enforced. Any form of dishonesty or laziness on your behalf will not be tolerated. I'm certain some of you noticed the detainment of one of your number during check-in."

As the officer spoke, several guards entered the building and between them was that girl, Kimberly. She was struggling and more than a little angry.

"I said let go! I'm here to become a doctor!" she objected loudly, paying the assembly absolutely no attention.

"You weren't invited to this program!" the soldier on the stage shouted over the girl's objections.

"Yes I was! Kimberly Aaron! I just didn't have my ID-"

"You did have your ID, your real one. The real Kimberly Aaron managed to report your theft of her invitation," the soldier declared darkly. "It was rather foolish to try to pass yourself off as your sister after flunking out of college, Krystal Aaron. Especially when you didn't have the forethought to lose your actual ID."

The soldier's face looked very sour right then and Tara found herself moderately worried for this fraud. Especially when the aforementioned fraud got belligerent.

"Whose idea was it to make a cut off of 3.0 for GPAs? I could've gone to med school without that! Kimberly is just a bratty know-it-all-"

"Who was invited to this program. Since you were so determined to get here, you'll be pleased to know we do have a place for you."

A number of people shifted in discomfort as Krystal looked expectant.

"We always need more prison guards."


	9. Chapter 9

The safe house on Chandrila was near a farming combine. Ylenic It'kla made it a point to go on long walks each day, remembering the peaceful days when he would sometimes visit the Agriculture Corps. Sometimes one or two of the Earthlings would join him on these walks. They all seemed to be in a state of shock.

Slowly, they came down from that shock and the rebel network began to provide them with new identities and pasts. Work was a bit more difficult and many of the adults were likely going to need some training for using basic machines. Luckily there were plenty of night classes around Chandrila. The Earthlings were enrolled as people who were getting extra education from under-developed worlds or ones that the war had severely ravished and rebuilding had not yet begun on for some reason or another.

Many of the Earthlings also seemed to know a disturbing number of things about the galaxy; the Clone Wars and subsequent destruction of the Jedi Order for instance. Most disturbing though was that all refused to go to Alderaan. New identities took them to planets all over the galaxy, he had explained each planet himself and admitted there were few places that would be more comfortable or welcoming than Alderaan. But these people refused to go there.

Most expressed a wish to join a Rebel Alliance to combat the Empire.

It'kla sighed, wondering if the Force had really played a wild card on them. If they were to combat the Empire, numbers would be needed and these people were mostly willing. But they stuck out sorely. They didn't understand how the galaxy worked. Or that there was no Rebel Alliance. Yet.

It'kla's lightsaber had rarely ever been ignited, it was his pride as a Consular. But the noises these people made, demanding to stand and fight, was igniting something in his own blood. Maybe it was all the years he had spent in hiding while throughout the galaxy, Jedi and Force sensitive alike were killed.

One of the skills of a negotiator was understanding when a person or a group couldn't be reasoned with. The Empire was past that point; he could easily see that.

Perhaps it was time to mobilize, much like Padawan Tano had and Knight Jarrus with his Padawan did now.

Those thoughts bounced in Knight It'kla's head as he returned to the safe house and was almost surprised to see another emissary there.

The human woman smiled distantly at It'kla, even offering a slight bow.

"Master Jedi," she began but Ylenic waved her off.

"I was no Master," he informed her gently. "Who are you and why are you here?"

"I would be Pooja Naberrie, the Senator of Naboo. Senator Mothma informed me of there being some people needing aid, and we have several vacancies on Naboo."

Ylenic understood and stepped back, allowing the Senator to talk to the various refugees individually. Naboo was also a good planet for many of them to take up residence on; the people were generally good and kind but didn't lack fire. Perhaps it would be a better destination for these people who rejected Alderaan.

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Saying that their courses would start immediately following Orientation had not been an exaggeration. It had been quite literal.

As soon as the unveiled Krystal Aaron had been dragged off to begin her new post as a prison guard, the first instructor had shouted for Alpha group to follow him. The second instructor gave a few seconds for the students in that group to file out before calling for Bravo group.

This continued for several minutes until Echo group was called and Tara rose automatically, determined not get separated or lost on her first day. Across from her, Andrew also rose and Tara felt a wave of relief.

There were about 30 people in Echo group Tara determined as they left the mess hall, following the instructor. Several of the other groups peeled off into buildings before they entered one themselves. The instructor led them to a hall that had three doors.

"I'm Dr. Fujikawa," the man informed them shortly. "My assistants are Medics Bilmore, Faulkner, and Waters. For right now, these will be your classrooms. Every day, without fail, you will report here unless you are called elsewhere. Miss a single class otherwise and you'll be on the next bus out. Your name will be on the door of your classroom."

The medics move past the doctor to the doors and let themselves in. As the doctor stepped aside, the students followed their lead.

The lists were not in alphabetical order was Tara's first discovery when she found her name wasn't on the first sheet. Ten people were listed and were likely chosen randomly.

Her name wasn't on the second list either, so after quickly confirming on the list, she entered the third classroom. It wasn't so much a classroom as a lab was her first observation. There were some tables and stools around the room, the largest being the table in the front.

The medic, she wasn't sure which one, was setting out supplies on the front table.

"Everyone, gather round," the medic called, a man who looked younger than her. He counted the heads as everyone stepped up to the table. "I'm medic Faulkner. We'll learn each other's names during lunch, but right now we need to get started. First thing: antisepsis."

Tara watched the man hold up a bottle of iodide and her eyes caught on who she was thankfully in the same class as. Andrew.

Tara mentally whispered a silent prayer of thanks to a whatever higher power had ensured she had what was likely the closest person she currently had to a friend so near as the lesson on antiseptic techniques and materials began.

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Getting Grand Moff Tarkin arrested and brought to Coruscant caused a number of differing reactions.

On one hand, a number of Moffs journeyed to Coruscant in order to witness the proceedings. There were many murmurs on many of them hoping to gain favor due to his apparent 'fall from grace' and gain the title of Grand Moff for themselves.

A number of beings hoped he would be found guilty just for the sake of personal grievances or because of his extremely harsh tactics. Embezzlement in the Empire could land someone in the spice mines of Kessel even more easily than murder could.

The most disturbing group that emerged though were those who practically worshipped Tarkin and his doctrine. This last group seemed to be entirely human, the race that benefitted the most from the Tarkin Doctrine and its adoption by Imperial society. They were also mostly military and high level citizens.

As Mon Mothma approached the Senate building, the last group seemed to be swarming there. Men and women in uniform jeered and sneered at her, shouting demands that she retract her 'false accusations' and allow the Grand Moff to return to his 'noble' work on the Outer Rim.

It was a relief to enter the Senate building that day, the security guards holding back the crowd outside since they didn't have an invitation, business, or clearance to enter. Senators, representatives, and invited guests milled about the hall that morning, slowly heading towards the lifts that would take them to the floor of their designated repulsorpod.

Bail Organa had arrived by other means and she noted that he had brought his daughter, Leia. The girl was making noises about wanting to run for Senator herself, try to assist in making a difference. Bail was proud of the intelligent but well-meaning rebel he had raised.

Mothma had some suspicions about who the girl's mother was but never dared to ask.

She noted a moment later that there was a small group of Bothans with the pair and that Bail's smile twitched in her direction. A clear indication for her to approach.

Mothma slowly approached the group, well aware that they were definitely being watched currently. She did her best to appear to be a somewhat bored diplomat approaching a friend who was with unfamiliar company.

"Bail," she stated in greeting upon joining the group. "And you brought your lovely daughter as well!"

Leia's hair was wound up into a pair of buns and her dress was a style that was slowly becoming popular amongst the female delegates. She offered Mon Mothma a nod and small smile while Bail greeted her warmly, she didn't miss the distress in his eyes though.

"Mothma, so good to see you," he replied as he offered his hand in a traditional Chandrilan gesture of friendly greeting rather than attempting to kiss her cheek as was Alderaan's tradition amongst friends. "I just found out these gentlemen have never savored Alderaanian Rose Wine so I had to invite them to try a glass. Would you care to join us?"

Something important that they couldn't dare to share here, Mon realized, though Bail was known to invite delegates and guests over for wine. No one would view this as an odd gesture by the Alderaan Senator.

"Certainly, shall I bring a fruit and cheese platter? I have some lovely day berries fresh from Chandrila this morning."

Bail laughed. "Those berries will show up the wine! But you know I can't say no to them and cheeses either."

Mothma smiled despite a grain of worry being added to the pile she already had growing. 'Fruit' was their code word for people in trouble, 'cheese' meaning a high ranking person. Regardless of whether Bail accepted or rejected her offer, when he mentioned the foods in his response, it was a clue of what they were going to be discussing. Nonspecific, no clues other than that.

Leia followed their interaction with sharp eyes and Mothma wondered how much the girl knew.

"Has there been any word on that Hyperlane they want to redirect?" Bail asked nonchalantly and Mothma shook her head as a chime echoed through the hall. Immediately, all parties began to head for the lifts.

There was no sign of Grand Moff Tarkin.

As Mothma settled into the Chandrila repulsorpod, she continued to scan the area. There were far more observers than normal in the public pods, some of them so crammed that two had actually engaged safety measures and refused to move until the load was reduced. Leia joined her father in the Alderaan pod while the Bothans headed for the pod that the Bothawui Senator had already settled into.

The pod reserved for parties being questioned was notably empty.

Noise began to pick up as the Senators and delegates filled their places in the hall, all beings noticing the lack of a particular Moff who was supposed to be facing the charges against him. The murmurs increased as the appointed time approached.

Mon Mothma felt her blood run cold when Sate Pestage and Ars Dangor appeared for the assembly, both taking the podium seat that had been held by the Supreme Chancellor and his aides, the middle seat remaining empty since it was reserved for the Emperor whenever he deigned to appear, an event that had not occurred for over a decade.

The two who looked to be heading the assembly today had always seemed dark and greasy to Mothma, most of the people she knew agreed. There was no denying their intelligence, but they viewed almost all others as far beneath them. Grand Moff Tarkin was one of the few they viewed as a peer, meaning above those that had been elected; such as the Senate.

Mothma felt her eyes narrow as Arns Dangor regarded the hall with a superior look, going so far as to sniff in disgust or disregard completely those who were not human. He knew better than to make even a small gesture towards the Bothans but showed no such restraint for Trandoshans or the Mon Calamari. When his eyes landed on Bail Organa, the man's smirk turned absolutely vile.

Mothma glanced at her chrono and decided to move ahead, activating her comm so that all parties in the hall could hear her.

"It is now time to convene this session of the Imperial Senate," she stated, calling the hall to order. Both Dangor and Pestage gave her sharp looks. "The reason for this session today is solely to hear the testimony of Grand Moff Tarkin, to hear his explanations on the various charges that he has been accused of and to determine if he should be made to stand trial."

"That won't be necessary today, Lady Mothma," Dangor's voice rang out from the center podium. "His excellency, the Emperor, has requested that Grand Moff Tarkin appear before him today and present his case. He will of course allow the Grand Moff to answer any questions the Senate may have when this assembly convenes again in two weeks."

Dangor's smile looked especially oily as he dismissed the Senate.

"That is not a decision for the Emperor!" a young voice called out and eyes all over the hall turned to see that the young princess of Alderaan had raised her voice. "Matters of justice and law are the matters of the courts and the Senate! There is clear evidence that Governor Tarkin has embezzeled-"

Bail managed to grab a hold of Leia's arm and gave it a quick squeeze, causing the girl to send him a sharp look, but it was obvious she understood.

Dangor's attention was on the girl though, his unpleasant smile only slightly dimmed as his black hair fell behind a shoulder.

"Your fire is refreshing young one, but misguided at the moment. There is proof that Grand Moff Tarkin was making use of a large number of resources, but as to whether or not he broke the law has yet to be determined. If he was constructing something for the protection of the Empire for instance, then this would be completely legal and the Senate would have delayed him in this endeavor and wasted the most valuable resource; time."

"And what of the children Omwat?"

"Qwi Xux is a well-regarded researcher and weapons developer. The other children taken failed the tests and were removed from the education program that Grand Moff Tarkin graciously included them in. I would assume they returned to their homes."

Leia looked ready to argue further and probably would had Bail not given her arm another squeeze.

"Seeing as how there are no other objections, the Senate is dismissed until the next scheduled assembly in two weeks."

Pestage and Dangor did not wait around for any questions, instead leaving immediately. Mothma stood as well and headed for the lifts. She met Bail and Leia enroute to the lifts and fell in step beside him. His face was grim and he offered her a small nod, meaning this session had gone exactly as he had anticipated.

"How about we forego the fruit and cheese, I think I could really use a glass of wine," Mothma stated dryly.

"We have some starblossom and feta," Bail replied before his eyes found Meena Tills. "Would you care to join us as well, my friend?"

"Most pleased to," was the Mon Calamari responded and the group set out, each taking their individual transportation back to the apartments of the Senators.

Leia sat with them as Bail opened the first bottle of wine, the Bothans arriving as he began to fill the glasses.

It shouldn't have been surprising that the group did a thorough scan of the apartment with small devices on their wrists as they got comfortable, but the group could admit they were. Usually the Bothans were more discreet.

"Thank you," one of the small group said as one of them nodded that the space was clear as Bail handed him a glass. "I can't say I've had wine like this before. We should try to do business with you more often, Viceroy Organa."

"Hopefully with good news," Bail replied as he passed out the glasses of wine, even offering one to Leia.

"One should wish," Meena added as she accepted the wine as well.

The Bothans looked grim and the group knew something was wrong.

"We have no idea what was being built by Tarkin. His highest officers are keeping quiet and those directly involved seem to have disappeared. But we do have some indications of the size. Despayre has been almost completely cleared out, prisoners that are there now are all newly interred, arriving within two weeks. There were also signs of that was a large armada in the system, blocking all traffic."

"All gone?" Leia asked sharply.

"Mostly. There is still a division guarding Despayre, preventing breakouts. But millions of prisoners are gone as are the guards and anyone who worked there."

Mothma glanced at Bail, both knowing this meant that Tarkin was likely buckled down for the long haul now. But given the harsh conditions he was notorious for, even several million enslaved workers were not likely to last long.

"Any idea on the size of his project?" Meena asked as she eyed her glass, still full.

One of the Bothans, a female, produced a datapad. "Although your agents found enough of the resources to build a number of star destroyers, it barely scratched the surface of how many resources were absconded."

Bail accepted the datapad after setting his glass of wine aside. Activating the screen, the tables for the resources the Bothans had managed to trace to Tarkin's project came up automatically. Mothma moved to stand beside him a moment later as the shock became evident on his face.

The numbers were beyond staggering. It wasn't a couple million tons of durasteel, it was easily trillions!

"Estimations stand that if the amount of materials currently had, Tarkin could either be building an enormous fleet, possibly consisting of several of the Super-class star destroyers that have been suggested, or a single station the size of a large asteroid or a small moon."

Meena's large eyes blinked as she was handed the datapad, an impatient Leia looking over her arm. The Mon Calamari Senator drained her glass of wine as she handed the datapad back. "Doubtless this is to be some sort of weapon meant to promote Tarkin's doctrine of fear."

"A gesture that will only cause more to want to rebel," Bail added as he accepted the datapad back.

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The medical program had begun two weeks previous. Evaluations had also begun immediately. Every day, regardless of what was happening, the students were watched and evaluated by the medics and the doctor who floated from room to room, watching every student perform, full blown skill checks seemed to occur every other day.

Each day, regardless of the day, the classes began and ran for close to 10 hours with a short break for lunch. Students practiced their techniques every day, learned everything the medics had to teach, repeating it over and over until the movements were second nature. Tara was grateful of that.

When hearing that they would be working on violent offenders, Tara had been terrified that she might be forced to cause harm or do pointless operations. Those fears proved to be mostly unfounded; the prisoners caused damage enough to each other and themselves.

Which led to where she and Andrew currently were: attending to a prisoner who had been involved in a fight. He had a number of cuts and wounds that needed to be cleaned and either stitched up or bound. The weapon his opponent had used had been a rusty piece of metal. They were being observed by Dr. Fujikawa.

Tara was cleaning one wound on the man's chest, thankful that he was sedated, a task they had had to perform themselves as well. Dr. Fujikawa had handed them a chart to look up the type of sedative to use and the amount.

The cut was a nasty, jagged thing. It was obvious that whatever implement that had been used to cause this had broken in the wound since Tara was removing rusty shards with a pair of tweezers. Andrew was prepping saline to clean the wound once all the large and visible pieces had been removed.

The pair worked quickly and efficiently as a team, Andrew cleaning the wound as Tara tilted the patient. He repeated multiple times before they were satisfied with the cleanliness of the wound. Dr. Fujikawa inspected their work as Tara prepared to place the sutures and Andrew pulled out a syringe and chart to give the patient a tetanus shot.

When the doctor gave an approving nod, Tara began to stitch the wound shut as Andrew administered the shot then grabbed his own suture set and went to work on a previously cleaned cut on the man's leg. It wasn't big and he quickly moved on to the only other cut that they believed needed stitches before beginning the binding of the man's other wounds.

Tara focused completely on her sutures that were being placed on the chest wound. It was a bit tedious, but she was good at it, one of the reasons she was applying them now. It took 22 stitches to close the wound on the man's chest and Tara took great care in tying the knots of the stitches before moving on the binding what few wounds were on her side of the man that Andrew couldn't reach.

Her fingers stopped over the prisoner's wrist, her fingers feeling something beneath the skin, which felt hot to the touch.

"He might have a broken wrist," she observed automatically as her eyes noted a small amount of swelling that was beginning.

"As with the middle finger of the opposite hand," Andrew responded.

Dr. Fujikawa stepped up at that moment, his hand sweeping over the wrist as well. "We'll confirm with X-ray. Finish up."

"Yes sir," both students responded automatically and Tara applied ointment on the few cuts on the man's hand, checking his fingers as she did so. There didn't seem to be any other breaks.

The doctor was nodding at their work, not really smiling but he wasn't pointing out any faults as they washed up.

The two left as two soldiers came to retrieve the prisoner and Tara glanced down the hall of the medical center where all wounds and illnesses were treated. Student medics moved about, most attending to prisoners while a few tended to soldiers and guards.

"You'll both be reporting to the front desk tomorrow rather than the classroom," Dr. Fujikawa informed them as they moved down the hall. "You'll be moving to the next course level. You'll be EMTs at least very soon."

"Thought we already were," Andrew muttered as the doctor peeled away and the pair headed for the exit. The evening was still warm as they stepped into the open air and headed for the dining hall for dinner. It remained open until midnight in order to keep up with the long hours of the students.

"How far are you into the practice programs for disease recognition?" Tara asked.

Andrew shrugged in response. "I put in a few hours every chance I get, but you know how it is. I'm whipped after each day. We're dealing with more than I think any of us thought we would."

Tara didn't deny it. Med school usually seemed to involve patient care after you were two years into the program, not meeting your first bleeding patient the day you had your first practice with placing sutures.

That was part of the testing though, their original class had already been decimated as classes were reorganized. Those who needed more practice were removed and replaced by those who didn't. Faulkner had told them on the second day that that would be how they determined who would move ahead first and ultimately specialize. There wasn't time to stick to normal class schedules.


	10. Chapter 10

I own nothing except the original characters in this fic!

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The United Nations had been in a near continuous state of uproar since the announcement of what was happening. It stood to reason that today would be no different.

Prime Ministers, Presidents, and representatives alike filed into the building, heading straight for their seats. Every one of them brought reports on the projects that their countries were working on and progress that had been made. Despite that their science programs and universities were collaborating openly, they were still operating as countries and not sharing what their national labs were turning out.

Some countries like Japan focused intensely on defense technologies and communication devices, most notably trying to construct radios based on the schematics that they had received. Japan and Germany worked closely on the radios since it was quickly evolving into a plan to 'make first contact' rather than waiting for an attack.

All delegates had come to attention fast as order was called, many eyes shifting towards the table where the Japanese Representative, Motohide Yoshikawa, waited with a man wearing a suit.

Translators readied themselves as the representative was called.

"Kono hito wa Himura-san desu," the representative announced and hands promptly went to headsets in order to hear the translation of what was coming next, though most knew immediately that he was introducing the man with him.

Samantha Power, the US representative, listened carefully as the man was introduced as a researcher who was on the team focused on the development of the radio. His news was that progress was immensely slow.

Power requirements would have been almost impossible without the new batteries that had been turned out from the plans provided by the extraterrestrial visitors. Estimations were that they might have a model ready for testing in six more months, but they needed to ensure it was different enough in design to not get their benefactors in trouble. Frequencies would be the next problem.

A number of representatives were looking angry or disgusted, their best shot was months away and they didn't know when an attack could come!

Good news came in the fact that the power plant for the Asian nations had been completely. Many far removed villages were receiving electricity for the first time. The power also meant that Japan had managed to conduct primary tests on a shield generator.

The first shield of what they could hope would turn into many had covered an abandoned island and stopped missiles that were fired at it without issue. It also stopped the projectiles fired by two of the alien ships that visited them.

Susan Power was pleased be called to speak next and informed the assembly that Bacta production was now proceeding at a high pace. The original formulas and procedure created by students had been tweaked and production now turned out over 10 tons of the healing agent every day. Currently, it was either being stored in preparation of the battles that may come or sent to work sites. Though severely rationed at the moment, facilities were being expanded and they hoped to be able to offer it globally soon.

Reports continued from around the planet, countries sharing their progress in technology studies, preparations, or even changes in policy. Iran and United Arab Emirates for instance, had decided to abandon laws that limited women in the workplace or required her husband's or a male guardian's permission for her to work.

Sweden and Norway announced their own partnership and focus on the technology for airspeeders, declaring that with their terrain, that they would most benefit from the vehicles.

Russia gave the biggest announcement of the meeting.

"We have successfully produced fuel for sublight engine," Vitaly Churkin began in his accented English. "Russian scientists also work on a ship of our own design, equipped with engines. We hope for test flight in year."

More than a few of the ambassadors were incredulous of this claim, but more wondered if there was a year for them to spend on this.

"It has been suggested we make probes also, a sensory net to try to track ships moving towards Earth."

Now the murmurs were in support of the idea. A bit of warning could make a large difference in regards to evacuations though many nations had already begun to move industrial plants underground since they could be run with new filters that minimized most forms of pollution.

"It is requested that the European Union share the technology they have worked on for solar panels for this project, as well as try to make appropriate updates for use in space."

Shouts erupted and several of the outside parties shook their heads. It seemed that despite having to think as a planet, national pride had not been forgotten, nor had debts or grudges.

zzzzzzzzzz

Grand Moff Tarkin did not love his wife. Their marriage was a political one he had agreed to for the power it would bring him. They both gained something from the marriage and their arrangement was a stable one. His long absences never grated or strained their business relationship.

He trusted her enough to tell her of the plans for the Death Star and even to show her an image of the battle station.

"Is this what those idiot Senators are trying to use to tear you down?" Thalassa demanded as she stared at what she could admit was an impressive station.

"Some of them. This battle station will have the capability to annihilate entire planets. It is a perfect symbol of order and fear. Unfortunately, we lack many of the needed resources, laborers being amongst them. I despise using wookies, but those animals have raw strength on their side and are generally good craftsmen."

"With wood," the wife of Tarkin snarled, the thought of using wookies at all leaving a bad taste in her mouth. "Such projects shouldn't be built by such filthy beings."

Tarkin felt his lips twitch in response, a gesture not missed by his wife.

"You have a plan?"

"Part of one. I agree that impressive and elegant projects should not be finished by animals, but they are needed for heavy lifting."

"Then the homeworlds of those Senators that oppose you?"

"Will be dealt with. At the moment, we wanted to know which worlds were rebellious, openly or not. They have been noted and will have a place in this plan to finally bring the various systems to order."

Thalassa stared at the weapon hard for another moment. "I've been thinking of expanding the megonite mines and could use a substantial new work force. Alderaan seems like just the place."

Tarkin almost gave his wife a half-smile. The thought of bringing the pacifist world to heel and forcing them to grow the explosive ingredient was only made better at the thought of the benefit it would bring him.

As for Chandrila, he was certain he could think of an intense punishment for his current discomfort.

"The Emperor was less than pleased that the project might be discovered so early," Tarkin pointed out. "Until this station is finished and operational, rebels may try to organize and make strikes with the hope of destroying the station."

"So you'll be moving the station regularly from now on?"

"Yes. This may the last time I will be around for quite a while. Once completed, I assume I will be permanently stationed on the Death Star."

Neither of the Tarkins was bothered at the likelihood of years of separation, or a permanent one.

zzzzzzzzzz

Tara found that EMT licensing was almost an automatic thing as soon as a competent level of capability was displayed. Once that was accomplished, the students were supposed to be funneled into whatever specialty the doctors and medics had determined suited them best.

It wasn't that easy. They still wanted to see how well the various students performed as individuals.

Andrew had been maneuvered into Anesthesiology after he had stopped a fellow student from giving a guard an unnecessary injection. It had been just an empty shot that had been set up by the doctors to see who was keeping the best track of drugs and the amounts given.

The next day, another massive armed fight had landed an inmate in the medical center with internal bleeding. A doctor who also claimed to be a surgeon was watching as the Medic Faulkner had brought in Andrew, Tara, and two other students.

Andrew was put in charge of the drugs almost immediately, confirming his choices in drugs with an Anesthesiologist over a radio while Tara and the two other students sanitized the visible wounds.

It was as they were stitching some of the wounds that Tara noticed that Faulkner, the head of their team, held a scalpel and looked to be shaking.

Having been briefed on what they would be doing, that an ultrasound had already confirmed the location of the nicked vein that was leaking blood into the thoracic cavity of their patient, she knew an incision had to be made.

Faulkner would position the scalpel but then his shaking would cause him to pull back. He'd position it again and pull back yet again.

It was after his third attempt that Tara knew of, as he stared at his hands, that Tara took the scalpel herself.

"Direct me," she ordered before positioning the scalpel and taking a deep breath. She only had to remind herself once that if this wasn't done, that this man could die.

Faulkner thankfully calmed down as soon as the scalpel was out of his hand and directed her with certainty. The incision was made quickly and the team worked fast, Faulkner handing Tara the heat probe; for some reason or another he seemed to be freaked out at the incision.

The blood vessel looked like a string to Tara's eyes, and she saw the way that the blood seeped from a thin slice, little more than a nick, with near perfect clarity. She could almost feel it as she sealed the vein, careful to ensure the wound was completely dealt with before the team began to carefully drain the released blood.

That day, Tara found out that Faulkner had been trying to get a foot into the Surgery specialization but had gotten cold feet over the act of actually cutting someone open. Tara had been placed in that specialty instead.

The day she was informed that she was going to be trained in Surgery was also the same day that the first bus full of students who had washed out left. All were considered competent enough in medicine at this point to be medics and had been given assignments in the military. One of Tara's roommates, Laura, was on the bus. And because a fourth person had never arrived, that left just Ching and Tara in their room.

On the following morning, Tara was introduced to the single most terrifying invention she had ever witnessed: a surgical dummy.

Rather than practicing on cadavers, the alien visitors had brought the horrifying things to assist in medical training. As long as they were powered and introduced to a small measure of bacta, the dummies acted and reacted like an actual body.

There were five of the things, and each day they were programmed with any assortment of health problems that needed to be diagnosed and fixed surgically. The dummies would chime when you were correct with your diagnosis and fixed the problem. A shriek signaled something going wrong. Any procedure could be repeated multiple times.

In Tara's case, her dummy had been diagnosed with liver cancer. Her objective was to remove all of the cancerous tissue, which equaled about half the liver, without hurting the healthy tissue or removing more than what was necessary. The introduction of bacta meant this wouldn't be too serious of an issue once it was publicly available, but until then and in situations where it wasn't available, this was an extremely serious procedure.

The surgical tools that were provided were just a basic set: scalpel, bone saw, two straight hemostats, one curved hemostat, tweezers, and the suture set. Next to the dummy, they looked primitive and old fashioned and by her sixth attempt at the procedure, Tara was certain that the dummy would scream about her level of incompetence if it could.

Since there were currently only three students who had been directed into specializing as surgeons thus far, and no lives were at stake, the instructors took turns at trying to complete the procedure on one of the two extra dummies. It became a point of pride for all three students that they got farther than the instructors managed.

The day was called for the three surgical students shortly after 6pm and all three were instructed to close up their dummies. As they cleaned up, the instructor went past each dummy and tapped a certain point on the foot. This caused the dummy to state a percent which was their scores on the operation.

"Six attempts, 42%," the first dummy stated when tapped and the man who had been working on the dummy slumped, looking exhausted and immensely disappointed while the instructor gave him a small smile.

"These dummies grade very harshly and were programmed to judge operations done with better equipment than what we've provided," he admitted as he headed towards Tara's dummy. "Being able to practice like this daily will make you all fine surgeons within a few months."

"Six attempts, 51%."

"We also need to remember that you three are the closest thing to naturals in this area in this class," the instructor continued as he headed to the dummy for the last student. "My associate was a practicing surgeon for 10 years and she only got a 49% on her first attempt."

"Six attempts, 48%."

"Those kids also had multiple attempts to figure out how those things tick, I got one," a woman shouted from the door as she marched in, completely ignoring the mock surgical room procedures of scrubbing up before entering the room. "And I hope you kids make good use of this time. It'll be getting far worse soon enough."

"Did you find another student for the surgical program?" the instructor asked.

"No, but I did want to know how you did," the woman replied as she tapped the foot of the dummy that the instructor had worked on.

"Two attempts, 31%."

The woman laughed immediately. "Well, those kids might have done better after several attempts, but you haven't yet!"

The instructor on the other hand looked quite red. "Give me a day to practice and I'll outperform you easily, Mira!"

"Another opportunity to beat you?" 'Mira' teased. "Too bad, I'd have liked an actual challenge!"

Tara didn't need to look at the other students to know that they had all decided to head for the door at that moment. They deposited their surgical smocks in a bin, tossed their gloves and face masks in the biohazard receptacle, and the caps in a different bin.

All three were silent as they walked through the building. It was late enough that the other classes had let out some time ago and everyone would either be at dinner or studying in the dorm.

"If that's how our days are going to be from now on, we'll be whipped within the next week," one of Tara's fellow groupmates stated when the door outside appeared.

"And they'll add caffeine pills to the list they have us swallow each morning to get us to continue," Tara pointed out.

"Have either of you figured out what those things are anyway?" the first guy asked.

"I recognize one of them, it's for treating mild ADHD. Gets you to really focus," the second guy informed them. "By the way, I'm Jose."

"Jeremy," the first replied.

"Tara, and I know that one of those pills is a vitamin and the another is fish oil."

"So that explains three of the five pills they make us take each day, soon to be six if you're right," Jeremy declared in mild agitation.

"Let's just assume the other two are likely to be some sort of memory agent and a second vitamin," Jose stated blandly as the three stepped into the warm evening. "I'm heading to the mess."

"I'll follow, so anyone you guys came here with also assigned?"

"Yeah," Tara replied automatically. "He was assigned to Anesthesiology."

"Nice, Anesthesiologists make big money!"

"And pay huge insurance premiums."

"One of the guys I came here with was sent to the military as a medic," Jose replied. "My roommate was assigned to Internal Medicine."

"Have you guys noticed that certain fields aren't being offered?" Jeremy asked as they passed the prison gates.

"Like Pediatrics and Obstetrics?" Tara asked, showing that she had noticed.

"Not just that, Neurology isn't being offered either." Jeremy's eyes glanced around. "I'll sit with you in the mess hall."

Tara felt herself wonder what that could mean. Not offering Neurology seemed strange, but so did not offering Pediatrics and Obstetrics. Thus far she had mentally passed it off as just trying to get people trained and moving in areas that would be critical, but Neurology? Without Neurologists, how would they treat sickness and injury to the brain and spinal cord? Those were bound to happen and…

Cold rushed through Tara as they entered the mess hall and joined the short line for food. She grabbed a tray in automatic and loaded it without paying the least bit of attention to what she took before heading to her normal seat, Andrew still there and just about to finish his meal.

"Hey, how was it?" he asked before Jeremy and Jose sat down with them. "Are they in surgery too?"

"They're going to let them die…" Tara stated, not hungry at all after her realization.

"Let who die?" Andrew demanded.

"No Neurologists means no one to treat Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, MS, or any injury to the brain or spine. They're just going to let them die."

"They wouldn't do that!" Jose almost shouted before lowering his voice quickly. "Neurology is a difficult and touchy field; they probably just can't cover it here. Besides, they're not teaching Pediatrics or Obstetrics."

"Because a basic Physician can take care of a kid if needed," Jeremy pointed out.

Andrew had already caught on as well. "And childbirth is a natural process that women have been performing since before humans stood upright. Most births can be performed just fine without an OB."

"They're preparing to thin out the herd if they need to," Jeremy continued. "There's limited space underground, they can't waste it on people who can't pull their own weight if we need to go underground."

"So they take out the weakest first. Those that couldn't survive without better than basic care who'd have nothing to immediately offer."

Jose shook his head in denial. "That would take out people like Stephen Hawking! They wouldn't dare to risk Hawking!"

"But they would risk Farmer Joe and Neighbor Sally," Andrew stated quietly as his eyes glanced around the room, similar to the way that Jeremy's eyes scanned the other side of the room. Tara scanned when they glanced down but found that the soldiers in the room stayed where they were and no one looked interested in them.

'Not interested in what we think, only what we do,' she realized.

"But… That bacta stuff," Jose hissed, his eyes desperate. "It can regrow organs!"

"Brains and the nervous system can't regrow, the stem cells don't divide. Bacta can't help if the stem cells are inert," Tara informed him.

"What about fetal stem cells? Those are undifferentiated and they divide! Throw them in the bacta and you might create enough blank cells that could grafted into the areas where they're needed!"

Three heads shot up at the suggestion as they considered the suggestion.

"I had Dr. Gaines phone number on my cell phone," Tara informed the group. "He's been moved to the Bacta production team. I'll call my parents after dinner and have them call him, give him the contact number they gave us for here."

Jeremy and Andrew both cracked grins at the news.

"We might get to see Stephen Hawking walk," Andrew joked but all noticed that Jose still looked disturbed.


	11. Chapter 11

Due to time constraints on telephone use, Tara tried to limit her call to her parents to a very simple message; she was doing well, she was specializing in Surgery, and she needed them to call Dr. Gaines.

Naturally, they wanted far more details and as her father grabbed her cell phone, she talked to her mother.

She couldn't give details on her training or how they were practicing. The inmates were wrong in her opinion, but the dummies were classified to a point that it wasn't funny. The only reason she worked on the inmates was because they weren't purposefully causing them harm, but the guards were doing very little to prevent it. Either way, deaths were occurring in that prison due to the lawlessness that was allowed and more inmates were being brought in regularly.

So instead of her training, Tara chatted about studying and how much she hated the food. She was considering declaring herself a vegetarian just so she could skip whatever meat dishes were served and have an extra helping of vegetables. Surprisingly, whoever the cooks here were, they messed up everything with any sort of meat in it.

Tara in turn found out her younger sister was expecting. It wasn't unusual for a 27-year-old to be having a baby but it seemed odd to Tara in that moment. Thankfully the father, her sister's longtime boyfriend of five years, had proposed.

They hoped to marry soon, especially considering that he was an engineer that specialized in air conditioning and ventilation systems. Apparently word through the grape vine was that his company would be shipping out to West Virginia in a few months to aid with underground construction in the area. It would provide the two of them at least with almost a guaranteed slot in an underground sanctuary.

Tara's father returned then with her phone, asking for the password.

The following minute as her father looked through her contact list then selected the right number was excruciating for Tara as she glanced out of her current stall to check on any line that might be forming to use the phones. There was a small one so she might have a few minutes longer.

"I think he got him," her mother stated a moment later. "Your dad is giving him the number now."

"Good," Tara replied as she glanced out again. "Make sure to emphasize that he needs to call. Now."

"Will do. We love you dear. And try to see if you can make the wedding," her mother told her before Tara could hang up.

Setting down the receiver, Tara glanced out at the line and saw it was still small but some of them were getting visibly restless. One actually was beginning to walk down the row, his eyes searching each occupant of the booths.

Their eyes had just met, him making a move to try to get to the phone she guarded when the set began to ring. Tara whipped around so fast that she felt dizzy for a moment as she grabbed the hand set before the first ring had finished.

"Tara Burns?" Dr. Gaines voice asked over the line. "It's been a while. Why did your parents ask me to call?"

"Because I don't have my phone," Tara informed him shortly. "I was accepted into the accelerated medical school and-"

"Congratulations!" the doctor declared enthusiastically. "As I think you know, they sent me to oversee the bacta production and it's going well, we're still using those whiffle ball designs though!"

"About that," Tara broke in. "I have a suggestion for an experiment that some of my friends and I discussed today."

"I'm all ears!"

"Try to see if you can get the bacta to grow fetal stem cells."

The silence over the lie was deafening for a long moment. "Tara… Fetal stem cells are hard to come by and are severely restricted-"

"I don't care. We think we might need this!" Tara snapped. "They're not teaching particular fields of study."

"Some are touchy and I wouldn't try to include all branches of medicine in what they're-"

"Neurology isn't available at all."

"That one especially requires a LOT of practice, education, and a fellowship," Dr. Gaines pointed out.

"Pediatrics, Obstetrics. They aren't even being particular about certain fields, no distinction on surgical fields especially! If you can get the bacta to grow fetal stem cells, then you could give a lot of people a better chance!"

"You're not making sense."

"They're not offering Oncology," Tara finally hissed, uncertain how to better make her point. "They teach us to recognize and remove certain types of cancer, especially in surgical specialization, but no one is learning about cancer in particular. Or radiation therapy."

Dr. Gaines was a canny man and he understood in that moment what Tara was implying. People were going to die without treatment due to a lack of knowledgeable doctors.

"Where would I…? I'll look into this, but I don't know how far I can get," Dr. Gaines admitted. "People have issues with using fetal stem cells. If it works though…"

Tara didn't need to reply as she hung up the phone then left, walking past a rather shocked looking boy who had stopped behind her in the booth area.

zzzzzzzzzz

Leia Organa had been immensely proud when her father had decided to allow her to join the small Resistance that was forming, even more so that he allowed her to take part in the Senate proceedings.

When Dangor had addressed the Senate, explaining the delay in the appearance of Grand Moff Tarkin, the princess had realized that there was nothing that could be done by anyone present. More importantly, none would try. The anger she felt at that realization had almost caused her to yell at her father.

He couldn't openly oppose them and hope to win.

Which was why Leia was doing what she was doing now: trying her hand at investigating the matter. Finding out about Omwat and how a number of children were stolen by Tarkin had been sheer luck while she had been attempting this research previously, trying to get a feel for Tarkin's character before his scheduled appearance for the Senate.

It had been mentioned by a single refugee who managed to escape the planet, but since then the matter had been silent. No names were ever mentioned, not of the children at least, until Arns Dangor had spoken at the Senate. Now Leia had a name: Qwi Xux.

Searching for this person was proving fruitless though; Leia didn't even know if this person was male or female since her research on the species clearly indicated they were not hermaphrodites.

The Military Directory made no mention of Xux, nor did the Civil Registry since the registry of the population of Omwat only went back two years. She noted that the Xux clan had been suddenly wiped out shortly after the registry had been made and accessed the reports from the sector.

The family had apparently died in a horrible accident when an improperly installed heating unit to keep food on a table warm had exploded, tearing the legs of the gathered family to shreds before being incinerated by the explosion of a power cell in the adjacent wall. There was also a report that a mere week before this incident that the family had protested the registry since one of their children had not been included, though it included all 'known' members that were in the family home. The name of the missing child was not disclosed.

Leia made note of the article, saved a copy to her datapad, then continued her search. No matter how she searched, there was no trace of Qwi Xux. No bills, no taxes, no rent being paid anywhere.

Angrily, the Alderaanian Princess struck the side of the desk she was seated at, causing a small container of styluses to tip and scatter across the desk, one landing on the keypad portion of the desk. Leia swept it aside with a sweep of her hand and an agitated huff then glanced at the display again.

"Force," she breathed instantly at the sight of the face before her. Bevel Lemelisk, a leading weapon researcher under Grand Moff Tarkin. He was currently listed as away on a project but could be reached via message over the Holonet.

Bringing up a new window, Leia set to work immediately, using her fairly new skills at hacking in order to splice into the Imperial Family Services. It took only minutes to set up a messaging account and then she thought long and hard on the wording of the message.

'Esteemed architect,' she typed out carefully before backspacing quickly. She couldn't let this sound like it had been written by anyone other than a bored office worker with only a passing interest.

'Mr. Lemelisk,' she corrected the message to read. 'This is being written on the chance that you could help us get in touch with one: Qwi Xux. There was an emergency regarding her family some time ago, and records indicate she has not been informed. If you can contact this being, please have her contact us via this messaging address or contact the following comlink:'

Leia typed in the code for one of her disposable comlinks then signed the message with her new false identity; Padme Fulcrum. She hoped that wherever in the Force Senator Amidala and Jedi Tano had settled, that they didn't mind the use of their name and codename.

zzzzzzzzzz

Ylenic hated having to put something else on anyone's plate currently, so when he had requested the use of a ship from the Mothma house, he made it clear he didn't need company. He just needed to get out of the eerily quiet safe house that had emptied almost entirely after the visit of Senator Naberrie.

Apparently, most of the Earthlings had liked her offer to settle on Naboo and had taken it. The few who remained on Chandrila were those who were serious about education. They were learning as much as they could, much to the delight of several of the volunteers who felt that they might become capable agents yet. One of the final four Earthlings on Chandrila was talking about university classes for Engineering.

Ylenic It'kla wished him luck before his departure.

Now he sat at the controls of his borrowed ship, uncertain of where to go. He had heard of some Jedi who found refuge on various worlds, but it was dangerous to try to seek them out. Should he head for Dantooine? The ruins of a Jedi Enclave were there, there might be some leftover knowledge or imprint there. Or maybe Ossus? It seemed less likely that the Empire would be patrolling the ruined planet.

Tapping the charts, the Jedi glanced at the planets and habitable systems he could visit. As much as he wanted to visit a planet that had been important to the Jedi, he couldn't risk it. Perhaps being around untrained Force-sensitives was igniting an old wish for his life in the temple.

Ord Mantell was likely crawling with Black Sun operatives. Mandalorians were not renowned for being welcoming to Jedi, so not Mandalore.

Ylenic's eyes roved over the galactic map, momentarily stopping on Kashyyyk before continuing. He would not even allow the possibility of wookies being persecuted for interacting with him.

His eyes glanced at Hutt space for a moment before moving on. The Hutts might not be looking for him, but he wasn't going to even attempt to kick that nest.

Bothan space was next, technically a neutral area, but Ylenic found he didn't feel drawn there.

Arkanis sector was next and now Ylenic stared at the map for a good while. This was where Tarkin had been stationed, where his initial plans had begun. They hadn't found anything now, but a number of years ago, Geonosis had suffered some horrible cataclysm.

Staring, the Jedi felt a pull through the Force. Something had been in the Arkanis sector not long ago and Geonosis having a disaster without details being released seemed highly suspect to him. Even more so when one considered that it was once the base of the Separatists. Tarkin punished planets that were Separatist ruthlessly, so it was possible he might have started there, using the natives as slaves first, back when slavery would have been met with far more outrage.

Taking a deep breath, the Jedi began the checklist for takeoff.

zzzzzzzzzz

The United Nations had been given a list on possible security concerns to deal with. The assembly was made to understand very quickly that when the Empire arrived, the first thing they were likely to lose would be their satellites.

There wasn't much that could be done for that, but more important was what could be gained through the satellites: connection to Earth's various information networks.

Donald Trump glanced at his cell phone as he received the report from his Cabinet, informing him that their wifi networks could be easily infiltrated. Information networks that they needed would be open to the invaders and needed to be secured.

The only method their many engineers could think of that would be secure, at first, would be to step back into wired networks. Those would likely be compromised soon after the invaders landed.

"Are we supposed to use messenger pigeons or something?" he demanded angrily.

"Carriers might work for a while, but they can be intercepted," one of the men admitted. "Rather, we believe in several rather old tactics should be used."

Trump waited impatiently as the aide in front of him shuffled through a stack of folders then handed several to him.

"Navajo isn't written, so it can be used for code-talking just like in WWII and they won't find a translation. Since it is a language, they won't have the knowledge of the phonetics and speech to properly break it. And rather than emptying the airwaves, we should fill them with as much chatter as possible, make it harder for messages to be immediately picked up on."

Trump almost lost a grin. "So get every talk show and radio station to blast on every possible station 24/7. Rush Limbaugh is bound to have something interesting to say about that."

The tight smile he received in response lacked in humor. "The one suggested measure that is likely to give us the biggest problem is… Several Cabinet members have tried to talk to companies such as Google and Charter about collapsing Wifi."

"What?! No one would ever allow that! And would it even be possible?"

"No, but necessary to protect information for as long as possible. We should be able to disable public sources relatively fast, private ones not so much but I doubt those will cause much trouble."

Sitting back in thought, Trump mulled over the implications. Removing public internet was something he felt most could live with, especially if they kept private sources.

"So what of when they land, going to suggest pulling the plug on the internet?"

The Cabinet member shook his head. "The FBI director suggested trying to use it in another manner, namely misinformation."


	12. Chapter 12

The trip from Chandrila to Geonosis took almost four days. During that time, Ylenic It'kla meditated and felt a deep sorrow as he felt the flow of the Force. Little by little, the Force was being shaped and forcibly darkened, a process that had begun once the Jedi Temple had become the Imperial Palace.

He wondered if the few Jedi scattered throughout the galaxy were formulating any plans for resistance anymore, or if they would join the one that he saw forming. It would be wonderful to form a Jedi unit, however unlikely.

When the computer finally alerted him that it was time to leave hyperspace, It'kla had just barely managed to scrape himself together. Thoughts of other Jedi raced through his head but with them came another thought: why had he felt drawn to this planet?

Prepping to claim himself just an Alderaanian advisor, scouting Geonosis to determine whether they needed any additional aid to help them recover from the disaster on their planet despite no requests being made.

Silence answered him on all frequencies and the Jedi felt cold. Focusing on the planet, he tried to feel for something, anything! His senses found nothing for the most part. No populations, no tribes, almost nothing alive.

The disaster… It had been a purge!

It'kla felt more than a little sick at the realization. Something had definitely been here and the Empire didn't want it getting out.

The Force alerted him to one lifeform on the planet that might have answers to what had happened, and the Caamasi directed his ship towards the location. If nothing else, he could offer whoever this was safe passage to a different planet.

Directing his ship through the atmosphere, It'kla settled his ship near the lifeform he sensed. There was a small above ground construction, but even a basic probe indicated that whoever was left was underground.

Checking to ensure his lightsaber was in place, It'kla quickly exited his ship and headed into the structure, his senses on high alert for anything.

The structure was quiet, very quiet, and the Jedi was faintly surprised that there seemed to be no obstacles. One would think that after all that happened, whoever was down here would have put this place into heavy lockdown.

A slight clicking and a call through the Force were what warned him of the attempted ambush and It'kla ignited his saber, countering the blaster bolts aimed at him, before parrying the attempted blows from what he quickly realized was an altered form of a battle droid.

Several of the droids attempted to leap at him in quick succession, the clicking of their limbs easily giving away their intent in the dark, even without the Force.

"I just want to know what happened!" He called to the air, even as he countered the blows from battle droids. "Why did the Empire do this?"

A feeling rushed through the air, possibly even an order, and the battle droids ceased their attack though their stances were at the ready. Due to It'kla's defensive fighting, the worst damage sustained to them was a few missing limbs.

He regarded the droids for a long moment before shutting off his lightsaber, though he did keep his grasp on it, and flicking on a lightstick.

The droid before him seemed to have relaxed its stance a bit more and turned its head slightly, almost as though to say 'this way.'

Ylenic It'kla watched as the droid turned before following.

As they trekked further underground, the 'hive' seemed to show a bit more 'life,' droids glancing out at them, all of them in the altered form that looked more Geonosian. Several fell in step after him, a small crowd forming by the time he was directed into a chamber.

The lifeform was a Geonosian queen, he could tell because of her head structure. She must have been severely wounded at some point though because her lower body looked to be mechanical. A wide opening in the ceiling showed the sky above, illuminating the area as she glared down at him.

"So, a Jedi comes here. Plan to gloat on your victory, even though you were betrayed as well? Or do you honestly care to know what happened?"

"What happened?" It'kla asked sincerely. "Why did they do this?"

"Why? It wasn't because we were Separatists."

"Then there is something they wanted to keep secret?"

The queen's expression remained hard before she seemed to decide something. "Yes, the ultimate weapon of the Separatists. They took the plans, forced us to begin building our own weapon, then murdered us with bombs! But it shall not be us they use it against, there's nothing left to gain here."

"What was it? Can it be destroyed?"

A snarling laugh was his answer. "The ultimate weapon is the ultimate weapon. I'm a Queen, not a lowly engineer! But I know that it can destroy planets."

It'kla's fur stood on end at the revelation. Base delta zero was terrible, but destroy?

"By destroy-"

"Reduced to debris," was the response. "No possibility of survivors."

The Caamasi Jedi took several breaths in order to try to calm himself, drowning his fear and anxiety in the Lightside of the Force.

"Do you have any copies of the blueprints?"

Once again, a snarling laugh answered him. "When we lost, one copy was sent to our benefactor and all others were destroyed. We wouldn't let our masterpiece fall to the hands of the Republic. Instead, we delivered it to the Empire and this befalls us." Now the Queen looked somewhat saddened.

It'kla realized that he would need to get back to Chandrila fast. They needed to get those blueprints, find a weakness, or mount an attack before the station was finished. They also needed to find it though he now had a suspicion as to where it was headed. But first…

"I was going to offer you transport to another system if you wanted it, but…" He glanced over the mechanical device the Queen was attached to and she seemed to laugh now, not the harsh snarl of condescension previously used.

"I refuse to go anywhere; I need my children. The Geonosian race must continue somehow or another."

It'kla nodded in understanding. "If I come across any other Geonosians, I'll let them know of your presence."

The laugh came again, the snarling quality present again. "Even if there are any, that would mean they abandoned their Queen and hive. What good would a sterile one be to them?" Now her eyes seemed to soften a bit, though a sly edge continued to persist in them.

"I was going to have my children try to kill you, Jedi," she informed Ylenic flatly. "But now I think it may be more interesting to let you leave. You can squirm and rebel against an unfair government just as we did, and fight against our ultimate weapon."

Ylenic bowed with as much grace as he could muster at that moment. "Then I shall peacefully take my leave."

zzzzzzzzzz

Dr. Gaines liked to believe he was a good, ethical person. He was also a scientist through and through, not a medical doctor. The thought of stem cells didn't bother him, even embryonic or fetal stem cells since those that were donated wouldn't become anything else.

Technically speaking, embryos were as gray a subject as ever existed, especially those that weren't to be implanted. They'd just die, so why not put them towards something positive?

He still found himself trying to excuse his current situation as he made several calls.

General John William Nicholson Jr, who had been assigned to fortifying the general and underground defenses of the US, had taken his call seriously. A slightly grim commander of his troops, the man had understood quickly enough how this research could help his men. With martial law in full effect, he had quickly requisitioned stem cell researchers to run the project in conjunction with the Bacta production. They were well under way within a week after the conversation with Tara.

The researchers brought experience and incredible techniques with them, though the addition of bacta to their research caused a fair amount of uncertainty. Bacta was still so new that its limitations were almost completely unknown to them. Naturally, the only way to figure out what it was capable of was to test it.

The first sample settled in a tank with just a small amount of bacta exploded in growth. It seemed that the bacta was attempting to make a full being out of just a small sample, but was failing to follow the correct blueprint. The cells looked to be attempting to differentiate almost randomly, some into types that seemed like cross-breeds of two or more.

Theories for this strange reaction when mature cells didn't react in such ways were varied. One of the scientists suggested that the cells were reacting to a genetic code that was being forced to divide too fast so mistakes were being made while another proposed that the 'blank' nature of the cells allowed the bacta to insert random codes.

More research was going to have to be done for them to try to figure out what was occurring and try to block it. Or control it so that the cells differentiated into stem cells that they could use.

Determined to tackle this project, Dr. Gaines headed for his office, intent to pull up every article he could find about controlling stem cell differentiation and make as many calls as necessary.

zzzzzzzzzz

Tara had decided that there was training and there was **TRAINING.** One was exercises that could be performed on a regular basis, be that every day or every other day or something of that frequency. The other was a grind that was meant to break you of every habit other that what you were supposed to do and could easily break any who were not certain and focused.

Her surgical training had quickly deteriorated into the latter category as soon as she and the now five other students displayed competency. The three new students had joined them within days of Tara making the call to Dr. Gaines and had hit the ground running to try to catch up since even a day was a LOT of practice.

Surgical training had quickly become almost fourteen hour days, their attention focused almost exclusively on the dummies. Exhaustion had crept in by the third day and just as had been predicted, a new pill was added to their daily regimen.

According to Andrew, who moved about the medical center above almost constantly as an Anesthesiologist-in-training, less than half of the original number of students were left. Most had been shipped off to join field and emergency medics in the military but a few had been sent to hospitals.

Enough of the instructors had been freed up that a new class had been brought in. They were fewer in number than the original class, but apparently were being pushed every bit as hard.

Tara doubted any of them would see training like what the surgical students were experiencing now.

Live rounds blasted through the air over the heads of the students. The rounds were deliberately high so they wouldn't get hit, but just hearing them and knowing they were there was daunting. Tara's focus was shattered over and over again by the noise as she barely kept herself from jumping.

It had taken three days of this before any of them could complete even a basic procedure. It wasn't pretty, but workable.

Realization had hit sometime around the fifth day that though what was going on was loud, it was hardly dangerous and the group had begun to improve in leaps and bounds. Then the line of bullets was turned to rubber and lowered to the point where they could get hit.

Which was where the six surgical students found themselves: finishing a brutal day of loud noises, stinging shots, and bruises.

Tara's dummy had a grievous wound to the chest which could be translated to a knife of some sort being driven between two ribs and puncturing a lung.

She longed for bacta as she once again inserted an oxygen tube down the throat of the dummy. Not for the thrice damned dummy though, she wanted it to treat the bruises that covered her body. And Jeremy and Joe's bruises. And the other three students whose names escaped her as another rubber bullet slammed into her side.

No amount of ducking or flattening against the floor saved you from these blows, just made them occur less often. The point was to make them focus, she knew that, but to force their hands to become sure and steady even under fire.

Tara was certain at this point that they were going to be deployed with the troops if there was any fighting.

Checking her dummy, she found that the recent shot hadn't caused her to jostle the dummy too much and she continued the procedure, gritting her teeth as a rubber bullet struck her leg. A chime told her she had succeeded in placing the tube and she took a moment to breathe.

Perhaps it wasn't a good thing that a yelp at that point drew her attention since she raised her head, earning a stinging shot to the shoulder. One of the newer students had been shot in the arm she saw, right on the funny bone. They were nursing it now while still trying to complete their procedure with their other arm.

Huffing, Tara wished she could help them, but leaving her station was practically forbidden. Instead, she turned back to her dummy and began working the tube out. Those in charge wanted them all capable of dealing with these procedures without assistance.

The firing ceased right as she freed the tube and for the first time in hours, the students and instructor could raise their heads and stand without worrying about being pelted with rubber bullets. There was a fair amount of stumbling as stretching occurred.

It was lunch break; Tara was certain of it as they all headed towards the exit.

The halls of the hospital area were crowded as ever, new students treating minor injuries while the more experienced ones dealt with the more serious and critical injuries. Prisoners and guards alike, more than usual, were on gurneys or chairs, groaning and crying out in pain.

"Good, you're all here," a harried looking doctor exclaimed as he charged up to the group. "There was a massive riot at the prison! We need two of you in operating rooms 4, 5, and 6 each! Anesthetists are standing by and Radiologists are confirming injuries! You'll be briefed on each patient as you scrub up!"

"We're operating on LIVE patients?!" Jose yelped.

"Either that or they'll likely die!" was the response and it got them all moving.

zzzzzzzzzz

Grand Moff Tarkin felt a brief tightening of his lips, the closest thing to a grin he would allow to show on his face before any being. The hint that Ars Dangor had suggested had born fruit.

Someone in the Senate apartments had searched for Qwi Xux, extensively at that and not just a passing interest form of search. The inquiries had come from the Alderaanian apartments at that.

It was foolish of Bail Organa to bring his daughter, to Tarkin that much was obvious. She had far too much fire and could easily be predicted on what she would do if she had subversive thoughts on an issue, much like another woman he had once known. If left alone, he was certain she would be useful once age had cooled her head and logic won out and she could understand the necessity of the Empire.

For now, he could still use that impetuous nature to his advantage, find out how much she knew, and therefore how much Organa and Mothma knew. Those two had always been too willing to share information with the young.


	13. Chapter 13

Saria, Tori, Zas, and SA: (All are staring at the Election results.)

Saria: Ok… The logical explanation for this is that we are either about to really be attacked by the Empire or-

Zas: (grabs Saria and starts shaking her shoulders) BUY LOTTERY TICKETS!

Tori: But if she does, we won't be able to afford apples this week! Our budget is tight enough!

SA: I thought we all voted for Mickey Mouse…

WE OWN NOTHING!

zzzzzzzzzz

Prisoner riots were becoming far too common in Tara's mind as she stretched after another long day. Today had been the third time that training had been interrupted due to the need to get the surgical students to help stitch up the worst of the injuries from the prison.

In other words, the third riot in the last two weeks.

The sky was dark and the air a bit cool tonight and it startled her a bit to realize something a bit horrifying: she had no idea what day it was.

Training had been going on for months now and the air was getting cool, plus they were in Georgia, though she didn't know which part. Did that mean it was September, possibly even October? Was today a Monday or Thursday?

There were never any actual days off, no calendars posted anywhere. You trained until you dropped then got a day off according to whether an instructor felt you needed one or not.

A shiver ran up Tara's spine then and she glanced at the mess hall, and winced at the aromas that wafted out. It smelled like they had cooked and plated something that had been struck on the road the day before. Not feeling at all hungry, the student continued walking towards the dorms, then past them.

The 'campus' for this training site was expansive but not highly developed beyond the few buildings and prison, so only a few minutes later found her out in a field, staring at the distant fence that several soldiers walked or jogged around.

"Hey!" a voice called out, and Tara found herself staring at two rapidly approaching soldiers. Both were wearing their fatigues and had slightly hard expressions, though they softened a bit as their flashlights revealed her to be unarmed and obviously not a runner.

"What day is it?" she asked suddenly, the need to know burning through her veins.

"Wha?" one of the soldiers asked, a confused expression on both of their faces.

"What day is it?" Tara repeated. "Is it September? A Monday?"

A concerned look crossed the face of one of the men. "Do you need to visit the infirmary?"

"No… I just don't know the date," Tara tried to explain. "We don't have our phones and there aren't any calendars."

"Oh!" One of the soldiers stated, looking a bit less confused though still concerned. "It's almost Halloween, the 29th of October. A Saturday."

Six months. It had been six months since she'd arrived here. Tara almost felt like laughing. Six months and she already had a hellish amount of surgical training under her belt but hardly anything else. Didn't medical schools usually involve learning at least some part of many areas of medicine so you could be exposed to them?

"Man, hard to believe it's almost Halloween," one of the soldiers stated quietly. "My wife said our son wanted to be a Stormtrooper. Apparently, he got the idea from that new Star Wars movie."

His comrade groaned. "You're going to be showing off the pictures, aren't you?"

The first shook his head. "No, strangest thing really: they couldn't find that costume. None of the stores had them. Hayley even noticed that the Star Wars and Star Trek merchandise and movies were all missing."

The second soldier shrugged in response. "Can you blame them? Who'd want those sorts of movies and ideas hanging over our heads with what they say is coming? Creepy enough that those aliens said that we were going to be attacked by the 'Galactic Empire.' Think the Alien/Xenomorph will show up too?"

Tara felt shivers run up her spine, her limbs beginning to shake a bit and it wasn't due to the coolness of the night.

One of the soldiers noticed and waved a hand apologetically. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya! And it's not like you'll have much to worry about. Medics and doctors aren't expected to fight."

Tara didn't bother to point out that hospitals could still be targeted. "Any other news on the aliens?"

"Lots of news on breakthroughs that are being made in developing our own bits and pieces from their tech. Can't make lasers, but the armor on their troops are good against that. Japans' got a shield that can cover most of the island now and Chinas trying to make it too. Russia keeps claiming they'll have a spaceship soon but they've been claiming that for weeks. The ISS is being outfitted a bit to serve as a look out. And we've got the Bacta production here in the states."

Tara nodded as her eyes followed several figures along the perimeter of the fence, noting a few were in scrubs.

"Gonna head back to the barracks now?" one of the soldiers asked, though he seemed more like he was about to order it. He'd been the one who thought she needed medical attention.

"Actually," Tara replied, her eyes not leaving the jogging forms. "Are we allowed to run along the fence?"

The first soldier who had spoken about his kid, nodded emphatically. "You check in at that booth," he pointed at a kiosk-like station. "They'll take note, then you can run on the path by the fence. Don't try to jump it though, we've brought down several people who thought to try to run. They all cooled their heels in the prison for several days."

zzzzzzzzzz

Kon Fairo whistled lightly as his eyes roamed over the hallway/street he was currently on, a bustling crowd of humanity flowing around him as well as a Basic speaking minder explaining the set up.

Currently, they were in one of dozens of underground shelters that had been created around the planet, this one was on the east side of the larger continent, a place called China if memory served.

The cavern was one of hundreds of interconnecting tunnels, dug out almost two kilometers under the surface of the planet! Well below the depth that turbolasers could normally reach and more importantly, according to his guide, the place had hundreds of well-hidden and guarded escape routes.

Neighboring regions had been informed of the closest entrance and when the Empire arrived, were to head there immediately.

Finishing touches were being placed on the various buildings, power lines being buried and oxygen scrubbers installed to ensure that the air didn't get congested with filth and accidentally leak their position to the Empire.

The reason Kon had been allowed down here was because this was to be a public place, and he was escorting the last team of engineers on the planet. That team had been going through the various projects, helping where they could to ensure that designs and limits were understood by the Earthlings, which was what they apparently called themselves.

For a long moment, Kon wondered if they'd be allowed to continue to refer to themselves by that title or if the Empire would impose a new name on the planet and its inhabitants.

Glancing around, he wondered if any of these people would still be around in just a few short years. The Empire was ruthless, and human or not, these people intended to resist Tarkin. More importantly, he hoped that the engineers got everything done right and that these people were as brilliant as they claimed.

All of the teams had received a message the day before yesterday that had sent many of them into a frenzy to finish up their projects. Mothma and Organa's case against Tarkin had been dismissed by order of the Emperor. The butcherer Moff would be departing Coruscant any day now and they had no idea how soon he would make a move on this system, but it was agreed that they wouldn't be able to buy any further time.

As of three hours ago, his team was the last one on the planet. Two of the other teams had taken an additional five Force Sensitives with them when they evacuated, bringing the total number of evacuated potential Jedi to a mind-blowing twenty-eight, not including the number who for some reason or another, whether that be refusal to go or a commitment that didn't allow them to. Including those people, the number was closer to forty.

Considering that the former Jedi Order had only been several thousand strong, drawing from thousands of planets around the Galaxy, even if one counted the service corps that took those that didn't become Knights, the number from this planet alone was mildly horrifying. It was made worse with the realization that they hadn't tested more than a small fraction of the population. If the Jedi hadn't been so picky or whatever they claimed was wrong, then they'd easily have gotten a small Order established again from these people alone!

There was no use crying over wasted opportunities. The Jedi had made their choice, thankfully Mothma had had the foresight to evacuate some of the people in case the Jedi changed their minds.

Kon's eyes were then drawn to an open area where what looked to be a group of soldiers were running through a series of drills. He took a step in that direction then found himself being tugged back by his guide as three people rushed by, one of them sidestepping him in a way that looked almost hazardous as he wove between two carts (on actual wheels!) before continuing on his way.

"Give those Imps hell!" Kon muttered as he watched the mass carefully, wondering how he'd ever be able to make his way through this sort of crowd.

zzzzzzzzzz

Qwi Xux considered the letter she had received through her superior with a worried interest. The tune she hummed at that moment was a bit slower than normal, and it would be the only sign to any who cared to notice that she was not in a normal state of mind.

Her family? And Imperial Family Services was contacting her about them? What could have happened? She didn't think the largely bureaucratic office did something as simple as help informing beings who were out of touch if something minor had occurred to their families.

The engineer shut her eyes for a long moment, considering the situation before glancing around her small compartment. It was typical living quarters for a non-leading engineer on a space station, though she wished that there had been a viewport. She enjoyed watching the stars, and there was always plenty of activity in a fleet this side, working on the Death Star and interacting.

Momentarily she thought of trying to look up some news articles and try to determine what had happened for herself, but set that thought aside. Because of the secrecy of this project, Holonet access was heavily restricted. She could send short messages currently, especially to certain branches of the Imperial Government. She was certain that Family Services would be an approved branch.

Thus, lacking a commlink that could make such a call, Qwi Xux began to tap out a letter to this 'Padme Fulcrum,' including a small line about how she could be a bit less vague in correspondence.

zzzzzzzzzz

Ylenic It'kla was sorely tempted to try to transmit what he'd learned to Chandrila and Alderaan, but he was so far out in non-wild space that the possibility of interception or being overheard was too great. And there would be no disguising what he had to say.

A weapon that could destroy entire planets! The potential destruction throughout the galaxy that such a thing presented was horrifying! Entire races would be brought to the edge of utter extinction in mere seconds!

Knowing that he couldn't risk sending out too many waves through the Force, lest he bring Vader and his Inquisitors straight to him and Resistance safehouses, Ylenic had settled into a meditation shortly after making the jump to Hyperspace.

They needed to find plans for this space station, pray that there was some weakness, or that they could act in time to destroy the thing. And if it was taking fifteen years to build, it had to be huge! More importantly, the building was still occurring.

Perhaps they could find engineers who would have the plans for this thing, or tell them where such things could be located.

There was also the possibility of attacking the supply chain, delay the building even more and give the Resistance time to mount an attack since building would likely be delayed, especially if-

His mind froze. The Death Star was being moved to the Earth system. A system far out in the Unknown Regions and was rich in resources. They could likely finish the thing just from mining that system alone… And they'd have 7 billion possible slaves to do it, plus several planets and moons to test the weapon on after. Planets that nobody but a select few in the galaxy even knew existed!

This meant there would be nearly no supply chain, and costs would be cut to a level that the Empire would likely view as reasonable.

More importantly, because the Resistance had sent engineers and various blueprints and supplies to help the planet prepare, they had unintentionally created a small, partially skilled work force! And the Earthlings had been working students hard with the educational materials! Even delays that the Imperials might anticipate due to unskilled or unfamiliar workers wouldn't be as big of an issue, especially with the right threats!

Taking a deep breath, Ylenic focused on the calm, warmth, and light of the Force.

His arrival on Chandrila several days later was quiet, with him being escorted through an 'official' corridor, allowing him to bypass the regular Customs lines.

"Is the Senator on-world?" he asked one of the Security guards, people who were confirmed Resistance Agents.

"Due later today," was the murmured reply.

"Tell her that several things have been confirmed," Ylenic instructed.

Outside of the terminal, a transport was waiting for him, and he boarded quickly. He had sensed the other occupants from outside the car and had offered them a smile as he boarded. The five travelers offered smiles in return before their eyes immediately returned to the viewports, gasps and murmurs bouncing around the cabin as they studied the city around them before several made loud exclamations as their landspeeder lifted off and smoothly began to make its way out of the city.

A tug on Ylenic's sleeve drew his attention several moments later and he turned his eyes to see a small youngling, a youngling he had met previously in the Philippines region of Earth. The girl seemed delighted to see him again, but very sad as well.

"They evacuated you?" he asked and the youngling took that as an invitation to climb into his lap.

"Doctors came and took blood. Said some of us could go," she explained as her eyes shadowed slightly. "Most didn't wanna, but momma said I hadta." Now the girl sniffed audibly.

Ylenic wrapped his arms around her in gentle comfort, understanding what had occurred. The youngling's mother loved her enough to want her to live, even if it was without her. At this age, attachments had already been formed and breaking them was disastrous for children. It was why the Jedi focused on infants.

As the speeder continued towards the safehouse, the Jedi offered his comfort to the distraught youngling, even as he wondered what would happen to this group. The one he held should go somewhere peaceful, maybe he should take her with him to Alderaan. Bail had several relatives who might want to take her in.


	14. Chapter 14

Tori: I swear that I smelled chocolate earlier!

Zas: You always smell chocolate. Either you or Saria are always eating it!

SA: Come to think of it, how are you two so thin?

Saria: (enters with a small bowl of chocolate mousse) Ok, time to- AUGH!

Tori: (tackles Saria and tries to grapple for the chocolatey-goodness)

Zas: That's how: they have fights worthy of anime characters over chocolate.

SA: (manages to extract the mousse from the fighting and takes a bite) Remember the time they actually pulled out swords over the last piece of Lindt chocolate?

WE OWN NOTHING EXCEPT SARIA'S MOUSSE!

zzzzzzzzzz

The suggestion that Ylenic take the little girl to Alderaan was well received by the Organa family. Bail's three sisters, Celly, Tia, and Rouge, were all dowagers who had taken well to the idea of having a little one running around the palace.

Currently, Celly Organa, who was the chairwoman of the Refugee Relief Movement, was working on the forms to hide the child's origins. They would use these to provide an identity prior to an adoption.

The Earth refugees had had a significantly different view on the matter. Two of them had been shouting at the Jedi about how he couldn't take the girl there, that Alderaan needed to be prepared to evacuate at a moment's notice. Even more surprising: although the refugees were new to Basic and were having some difficulty with certain terms, many of them recognized certain names and terms.

Looking back, Ylenic could admit that all of the refugees had been like that, but it hadn't truly caused any suspicions until this moment. Why had the previous groups of refugees outright refused to consider going to Alderaan? Why did these people also seem to know of it?

There was no better way to address the issue than straight forward.

That was how Ylenic It'kla found himself sitting across the table from one of the more cool-headed of the refugees, introducing her to stim-tea. She, like the girl, was from the Philippines and had been speaking to the child in their mother tongue before agreeing to speak with him.

"I'm a bit confused about why you refuse to allow the child to go to Alderaan," Ylenic began gently as he poured the tea. "She could have a family and a bright future there, be well-educated and looked after. I promise you, the Organa's-"

"Are not the problem," the woman replied, her voice carrying an unplaceable accent. "It's Alderaan!"

"Alderaan is safe and peaceful. They possess no weapons!" Ylenic informed the woman and was deeply surprised when he felt no surprise or understanding, just a hardening resolve.

"We have…" the woman then said a word that was apparently without an equivalent in Basic. She blinked for a moment then settled on a different word. "Stories… Ones that involve a planet called Alderaan. It meets a terrible fate and is destroyed."

Ylenic felt a chill run up his spine as he thought of the Separatist's weapon, which never seemed far from his thoughts these days, but pushed it down fast. The Empire wouldn't dare to use the weapon to destroy Alderaan. That would be a horrible slaughter that would turn many against the Empire, especially the allies of Alderaan. These people were just superstitious, believing that a planet that had oddly been given a similar name in a story could be a bad omen. These sorts of fears were common amongst the inhabitants of new worlds, but still disconcerting to deal with.

"Are you going to allow this fiction from your home planet to be used to deny this child the chance at a new identity? A new life?"

The woman across from him bit her lip, and a tremble went through the Force. "Doesn't the coincidence seem enough? Why not another planet?"

"I doubt she'll receive such an offer from another family. This is the _royal_ family of Alderaan that is offering to adopt her after all, I know them well and they are good people. She'll be in a position that will be above suspicion, have access to education she might not otherwise have."

"But is that safe?"

The question was blunt, and Ylenic found that it was a multifaceted question.

"I'm going to suggest that Alderaan invest in higher-grade sensors and planetary shields, preferably installed surreptitiously. If something happens, I'm certain that she'll be evacuated in time."

Uncertainty still ebbed from the woman in waves, only ebbing a bit when he had mentioned that the story these people knew was fiction. Mentioning the shields had caused the woman's eyes to narrow suddenly.

"Why do they need shields?" she asked suddenly. "What is going on?"

That last question was both perfect in intent and the worst she could ask. Ylenic didn't wish to worry these refugees with the Empire's new weapon, they weren't ready for such a thing.

"The Empire can conduct strikes on Alderaan, especially if they learn of their involvement with your planet. But utter destruction could never happen."

"But why tempt fate by sending her there?"

zzzzzzzzzz

Qwi Xux's response to Leia's original message had been exciting for the girl. Exciting to the point that she had to stop herself from sending an immediate response to request a face-to-face meeting. Such a thing would be obscenely suspicious.

Instead, Leia had begun to look through the articles she had available and slowly built her response to the woman. She needed to make things look suspicious without being overt with it. Just telling Xux that her family had died in an accident would be dismissed, though there would be the strange amount of time that had passed without informing her. Strange, but not unheard of since she was evidently on an important assignment.

For three days, the princess had slowly built a report that indicated the happenings, and how it was that it had come to the 'attention of her department.' The task was tedious, though not as mind-numbing as her aunts 'lady lessons' had been.

The report simply read that a complaint had come to the Family Services office from her family, complaining about Qwi not being included on the Civil Registry of Omwat and that the Census Bureau was not answering them. When the complaint had been brought up, an attempt to follow up with the family had revealed that they had been killed shortly after lodging it due to an explosion in their home. This was followed by an apology for her loss.

The report grated on Leia horribly. It seemed unfeeling and deliberately misleading, the second part being intentional. She kept wanting to add in more, offer condolences, help, anything; but that wasn't what a bored office worker who did this every day would do. Especially given the way that most followed High Human Society in the upper levels of Imperial Center (Coruscant as Leia persisted in calling it in her head).

Unfortunately, Qwi was one of many non-humans that were being informed of misfortunes in tumultuous times, and Leia giving the sympathy she wished to express would be suspicious.

Finally, five days after the initial response from Qwi, Leia believed enough time had passed to send the report, seemingly by a busy and uninterested office worker.

Her mouth was dry as she sent the letter, hoping it would raise some interest in Qwi to look for further answers, and possibly sway her to contact Padme Fulcrum again.

zzzzzzzzzz

Bail Organa sighed as he walked through the halls of the royal palace of Alderaan. His sisters were buzzing with excitement about the youngling that Jedi It'kla had contacted them about.

Celly had finished the documentation for the child just hours ago, and now the three were arguing over who would be adopting the child. All three were hoping for a little lady this time, seeing as how Leia had been a tomboy.

Leia had similarly been drawn into the excitement over a new cousin. Based on some of her glances, Bail was willing to bet that she'd be tutoring the girl in various, unladylike pursuits.

Unfortunately, he found that he couldn't share in the joy of the occasion. Mothma had spoken the It'kla just an hour ago, and had received the news about Tarkin's project. She wouldn't tell him over their commlinks, so he headed to his secure computer to access the coded message.

The message was short but highly encrypted, taking almost five minutes to be unlocked. During that time, he checked the status of his various teams of 'missionaries' around the galaxy. Some were currently on Yavin IV, assisting with the set-up of a base in some of the ruins on the planet. Others were reporting in from war torn planets were aid was being rendered.

He also saw confirmation that the last of the teams on Earth had withdrawn, earning a small sigh of relief even as he felt a flash of guilt. They were receiving such a violent introduction to the galaxy, and he couldn't even stand with them outright.

Finally, the message was unlocked and Bail turned his attention to his computer and felt his breath freeze in his chest. Tarkin was making a weapon that could destroy planets! The particulars on the project were unknown other than that it had been designed by the Separatists, the Geonosians evidently having given the plans unknowingly to an Imperial agent and had been destroyed afterwards.

Bail grit his teeth as chills ran up his arms. Destroy a planet? That was going MUCH too far, but the more he saw of the power-hungry nature of those that stood at the top of this Empire, the less it surprised him.

This abomination needed to be destroyed! They needed to find out where it was and destroy it while there was the chance! But where was it currently? How would that happen?

The Viceroy's hand shook as he considered it. He knew where it would eventually be: in the Earth system. The people there might be willing to help them, but at what cost? How could they destroy the station?

They needed a plan, and to know where to hit. And weapons. Bail Organa felt his head bow in semi-defeat. Alderaan needed to arm itself, especially if they intended to stand with the forming rebellion. Originally, he had thought that they could keep Alderaan separate from the war, but that was now very unlikely.

As for this death machine, maybe they could bribe someone to bring them pieces of the plans. Maybe an engineer or someone-

Bail remembered the name mentioned by Ars Dangor at that moment, Qwi wasn't it? Maybe he could research her, figure out if she was on this project or- No. That was a trick, he could tell based on the way that Dangor had mentioned her in connection with Tarkin.

Standing, Bail moved from his office after deleting the message from Mothma. He needed to make sure Leia didn't think to try to research Qwi Xux.

Leia was in one of the gardens with Celly, who was telling her about the Refugee Relief Movement. They were discussing planets that were in crisis and the various types of relief. They both looked up as he approached.

"Leia, I need to ask that you not go looking for that woman that was mentioned by Ars Dangor," he stated quietly.

"What?! Why?" Leia responded sharply.

"Leia!" Celly chastised, looking ready to begin a lecture on how a lady should speak, but Bail cut her off.

"Because it's a trap," he replied shortly. "Likely an agent of Tarkin or someone in the ISB, trying to catch someone with information."

Leia looked thunderstruck for a moment, and Bail knew it was already too late.

"You found her?"

His daughter nodded. "She's… Not in general contact. I posed as an officer worker for Imperial Family Services, giving her notice of the deaths of her family."

Bail stopped to consider what he had just heard. Deaths? Leia knew not to make up any lies that were easily disproven, so this had to be a truth. "You researched this?"

"I couldn't find her, she was only mentioned through an inquiry to the Census office by her family. And they were killed a week later."

"Did you contact her?"

"Yes."

"And you only told her about the deaths?"

"Yes. I deliberately made them seem suspicious, but nothing else. I don't know if anything will come of this."

Bail considered this. He should… Research this. This person might have the information they needed, and if her family had been killed suspiciously, she might be convinced to assist them. They'd need to talk to Mothma, possibly have Leia turn over communication to an agent-

His commlink went off then, and he grabbed it quickly. A voice he recognized came from over the comm, an agent that doubled as his housekeeper on Imperial Center.

"Tarkin has left Imperial Center."

zzzzzzzzzz

Tara was not happy.

Her day had been another brutal repeat of training it seemed. Her scalpel work was proving to be excellent, and like most of her fellow students, she no longer jumped due to loud noises during operations. Even the sting of the rubber bullets no longer could draw her away from her work.

It was exactly what those in charge had been wanting.

Today there had been several new students brought into the surgical area, the forerunners of the second class. Jeremy, Jose, and herself had been ordered to report to the mess hall.

"What's going on?" Jose asked but was waved away by the officer that had delivered the orders.

"Military," Jeremy reminded him as he pulled him out of the door of the mock surgical prep room. "When they say 'jump,' you ask 'how high?' as you jump."

Tara had nothing to add to that as the trio walked through the halls of the hospital, students and doctors rushing by them, their roles by now well-known and their work certain. Several of the students that they recognized as also being survivors of the original class were heading toward the exit.

It was not a crowd that left the building and headed for the mess hall, only about 25 students. Andrew fell in with them quickly.

"Any idea?" he asked.

"None," Tara replied as her eyes moved quickly, looking for anything that might be telling.

She was studying the roof of the Administration building when Jose breathed out, "Bus."

More than four sets of eyes turned towards the parking lot at that moment, and sure enough, there was a bus.

"Being sent out?" Jeremy wondered as around them, several people began to murmur before going quiet as they entered the mess hall.

There were no doctors present this time, no other students. Even the cooks seemed to be gone as the summoned students moved between the tables, most settling with friends or small groups. At the front of the room and along the sides were several soldiers. Even they looked confused.

"ATTENTION!"

Tara, Jeremy, and Jose didn't react other than to turn their heads to the front of the hall where an officer stood. In fact, most of the room reacted in that manner. It made Tara wonder if they were using the same training techniques for all of the medical specialties.

"The lot of you are the first string of medics and specialists to come through this program," the officer began. "You have all been thoroughly trained in one area of medicine. Make no mistake, you're not doctors yet, but we have run out of time."

The officer began to pace on the stage and Tara felt the tension in the room rise.

"As of two days ago, all of the teams from our allies have been recalled. The Empire that they warned us of will be upon us any day now. Training for the newer students shall continue, but the lot of you are going to be deployed to bases. You'll continue your training directly in military hospitals and be deployed with the troops when the fighting starts."

The pacing stopped abruptly.

"This… Will not be like any war we have ever had before. These aliens can attack from above our atmosphere, clearing any area they might choose to land in. They have technology that we cannot compare to. We cannot lose or else we face our own destruction. Knowing this, every tactician on the planet has been judging where these aliens will attempt to land. They have narrowed it down to the coastal regions of Europe, eastern Asia, and here in North America.

Civilians in each of these areas have already begun evacuations away from coastal areas. When you are dismissed, you'll have 30 minutes to gather your things and try to call your families. Don't waste them. Dismissed!"

Tara's eyes were slightly wide now, and goosebumps traveled the entire length of her arms as she stared at the office in mild shock. He was sending them to war and she didn't even know his name…

A hand grasping her arm brought Tara back to herself a second later and she found herself being steered toward the door as roughly half of the summoned students headed there as well.

"Come on!" Andrew hissed as they hurried with the other students towards the dorm building. They entered with the rest of the mass but Tara's attempt to join the lineup for the phones was derailed as Andrew dragged her towards the stairs instead.

"You can borrow mine," he stated quietly, and Tara was quick to follow him up the stairs.

"Let me use it too," came a voice behind them, and Tara glanced back to see Jose behind them.

Turning her eyes back to Andrew earned her a sheepish grin. "He's my roommate. They moved him in with me when the second class arrived."

Tara rolled her eyes, but nodded her understanding, and seconds later they stopped in front of a door that Andrew quickly opened.

The room was identical to the one she was in was what Tara noticed first, then Andrew shoved the phone into her hand.

"Make it fast and stay away from the window," he ordered.

Tara nodded as she quickly began to dial the house phone for her parents, then stopped and changed the number to her mother's cellphone. It rang once before her mother was on the line.

"Hello?"

"Mom," Tara started but was quickly cut off.

"Honey! Where are you? Do you know what's going on? They issued an evacuation order for all of Florida a day ago. Luckily your father and I were visiting your sister in Tennessee, but they won't tell us what's going on!"

"They think the aliens are going to attack soon, and that it'll happen in a coastal area," Tara informed her mother.

"What?!"

"The aliens who were helping us have left, ordered to go by their superiors so the unfriendly aliens might be here any day. They're deploying us with the military."

"What? But… But you'll be near the fighting! You might get killed!"

"We knew this could happen mom. I'll be a non-combatant if that helps any-"

"Helps nothing! Get awa-" A shriek went over the line and shouting followed before the voice of Tara's father came through.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, hey dad."

There was a long pause and Tara could hear her mother demanding her father to order her to run. He sighed, then began to speak. "Know that we'll always be proud of you. Know also that while I've always supported the belief that women were just as capable as men, and can do just as much harm as any man with a gun, they are much harder to kill up close, especially if they're unarmed. If these aliens attack, you follow orders but don't take up a gun. Get away if you can but if you are caught, cooperate. Stay alive. Don't ever give them cause to harm you. And come home when this is all over with."

The call ended after that, mid-yell from her mother to not say such things, and Tara handed the phone to Andrew with a quick, "Thanks." He nodded then handed the phone to Jose who began to dial automatically as Tara headed for the door.

Rushing down the hall to the stairs, Tara took the stairs down three at a time to the second floor and was surprised to find the door to her room ajar. Inside, a distraught Cheng was shoving what few items she had into the bag she had brought.

"We get to keep the duffels and our current uniforms," she told Tara as she began to pack as well. "We turn in the iPads at the Administration building while in route to the bus. Did you… Call your parents?"

Tara bit her tongue to keep her immediate response back. "Not yet," she replied after a moment.

Cheng nodded. "Don't count on getting through. According to the supervisors, there is so much phone traffic due to the evacuations that the lines are flooded. No one was getting through."

"Thanks," Tara replied after a long moment before heading to the bathroom and collecting her toiletries. She couldn't bring herself to tell Cheng that the phones not working was likely a falsehood, that most people had likely been ordered to evacuate but didn't currently know why. She was willing to bet that most could guess why, but there was a significant difference between suspicion and confirmation.

Less than five minutes later, Tara and Cheng left their room for the last time, handed in their keys at the dorm desk, and just for show, Tara joined the small queue that was left for the phones.

When her turn came, she dialed in the number of her mother's cellphone and tried to look distraught when a voice message stated that the call could not be completed.

Minutes later, she handed in her iPad and trotted towards the bus. Her goosebumps had never calmed back into regular skin, and persisted even as she took a seat next to Andrew on the half-full bus.

zzzzzzzzzz

Grand Moff Tarkin's shuttle settled into the Death Star's hangar bay with barely a bump. Standing from his seat, he headed for the ramp to depart the shuttle and was more than a little surprised by his welcoming party.

Aside from the usual party of three officers, there was one additional person present.

"One would think that you would have other, more pressing issues to deal with, Lord Vader," Tarkin stated as his feet hit the deck of the Death Star.

"The Emperor feels this project has taken long enough to complete. As such, he has ordered that the 501st take a personal interest in ensuring that you get the labor force needed in this new system, as well as properly integrate it into the Empire. He is most interested in announcing the addition of a new system to the Empire, as soon as possible."

Tarkin easily read between the lines: Finish this fast and Vader will bring the natives of the system to heel. A Governor would be appointed eventually, but it would not be Tarkin.

"So, you shall be in charge of the invasion?" Tarkin asked as they headed towards the lifts, intent to reach the main meeting room so that a number of details could be discussed with the other high ranking officers onboard.

"Only for the initial fight. The 501st and I will have other duties to attend to, and we shall depart when needed elsewhere. Based on the estimated technological level of the planet, you should have no further issues."

"And the Emperor wishes the planet to remain intact?" Tarkin clarified.

"Conquered, but intact is preferred," Vader confirmed. "He believes what seems to be a pure Human world so far out, without alien influence, could be an interesting study and destination."

The Sith lord's voice betrayed nothing of what he thought of this idea, but Tarkin knew that Vader didn't believe in High Human Culture, despite it having proven its worth in his eyes. His own parents had ensured his understanding of it.

The lift doors opened and the Moff and Sith lord entered the space alone, others choosing to take a different lift.

"We have scans of the planet, detailed ones that will be useful in planning the initial attack," Tarkin stated. "We shall have our battle plans made before we make the jump for this new system. A week at most to allow the forces and supply ships to gather, and to confirm our plan of attack. We know the locations where the population of this planet gathers, so striking fast to gather a workforce shouldn't be difficult. And they should have had no warning. A perfect population to introduce fear to, in regards to their new masters."


	15. Chapter 15

Zas: Tonsilitis AND an ear infection?

Saria: Go away, sleepy. (BONK)

SA: (Wielding an Organic Chemistry textbook) Medication or not, you're using this time to write. We've mostly taken a hiatus for over a year now because you were focusing on school.

Tori: And she got A's in Organic chemistry.

SA: (directs the book at Tori) This thing is heavy. Please give me reason to use it.

Zas: Uhhh… (Points at kitchen) CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES!

Tori: YAY! (runs towards kitchen)

zzzzzzzzzz

With access to the holonet as restricted as it currently was due to their project, Qwi Xux knew that if she were caught, she would not be facing a mere lecture from a supervisor. For breaking net silence, she would be lucky to receive a sentence to work as a slave at this point, especially with Tarkin and the 501st here.

But the message about her family left too many questions and she needed to know what had happened to her family.

Thus, she had begun to break into less frequented areas of the station during down hours in order to gain access to the holonet. It was slow going, and she kept her searches to ten minutes in length before moving to another location. They had mostly been fruitless.

Searching the names of her parents and siblings had not brought up much, nor had the searching for accidents in her home village. She managed to find something after accessing the town files, something any citizen could do so long as they had their family's passcode. It had taken Qwi five location switches to remember, but she had managed it.

The confirmation of the deaths of her entire family was horrifying, and the manner was equally gruesome. But more importantly, her trained mind had identified immediately to ways that the warming unit could be weaponized, and all the failsafes that would have to be disabled. This knowledge led to a new search: had there been any work done on the unit?

Her town was small and services were recorded by companies and individuals in a manner that could be accessed from the town files. It took two days, eight location switches done after her working hours and sleep, before Qwi was certain. There had been no official work done.

So, either unofficial work had been done that caused a system of redundant failsafes to fail, or a catastrophic accident had occurred. The odds were very firmly against the latter.

The next day, Qwi had gone about her duties, feeling oddly detached but not allowing her work to suffer. Her nerves felt raw and for the first time in a long while, she didn't hum as she worked. It struck her as the work day ended that none of her human colleagues had noticed or seemed to care. With this realization, she found herself looking around with much more intensity.

Humans surrounded her, with very few non-humans in any capacity other than slave. Near-humans, such as herself, could be free, even gain a bit of respect, but were easily dismissed. She realized that when she found herself bothered for the first time that her co-workers didn't include her in any plans.

Her search continued that night, but now with a new focus: Padme Fulcrum. She had expected to find a listed employee in Imperial Family Services, but the few Padme Fulcrums in the galaxy didn't seem to reside on Imperial Center. What did catch her interest was a report on an Imperial dissenter that went by the codename of Fulcrum, who was believed to have been killed by Lord Vader not too long ago.

Qwi found herself doubting the Sith Lord's success in that moment. But why would this operative contact her?

The answer to that was obvious as Qwi considered the Death Star. It was meant to break up dead, lifeless planets to extract valuable ores and elements to be used to better the galaxy. This person wanted to know about the Death Star. But why? Why send her information on the demise of her family? Was it a threat or a warning?

Qwi wished in that moment that she had remained at the Maw Installation rather than being transferred to see the work on the Death Star completed. She could have figured out this Padme Fulcrum problem much more easily with the resources she had access to in the Maw Installation.

As it stood, she was now tight on time. Tarkin was here as was Lord Vader and recent orders had indicated that the fleet would be deploying in four days for a new system. Qwi was both fascinated at the notion of seeing a new system being brought into the Empire, and terrified with the knowledge that there would be no holonet there to continue her research on this problem.

Heading to her personal computer, she decided to figure this problem out by going directly to the source. She would be contacting this Padme Fulcrum.

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Ylenic It'kla almost felt guilty when he had used to Force to distract the older Earth refugees as he walked the little girl out of the safe house and to a waiting hovercar. They had been adamant that the child couldn't go to Alderaan and had tried several times to convince him otherwise.

The Jedi wanted to respect their culture and beliefs, but to base actions off of a fictional story was ridiculous.

Luckily, the child had been asleep during the escape from the safe house and had slept most of the way to the space port, waking and groggily rubbing her eyes as they entered the hanger.

It'kla was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face waiting for them, the pilot he had originally visited Earth with: Gin Kain. Beside him was another familiar face for the Jedi, that of Celly Organa.

Both stayed by the ship as It'kla approached, though Celly's eyes were very quickly glued to the little girl.

"She's adorable!" the woman cooed as she kneeled to look the child in the eye, studying her black eyes and hair. "Hello dear, I'm Celly. You can call me Aunt Celly if you would like. What's your name?"

It'kla almost kicked himself for not knowing the girl's name as the child stared at Celly for a moment then glanced at him, suddenly looking shy. A quick squeeze of her hand from his gave her some reassurance and she met Celly's eyes again.

"Mariel," the child replied quietly.

Celly smiled at her brightly. "Would you like to see the ship, Mariel?" she asked as she extended her hand.

Mariel hesitated only a moment before taking the woman's hand and was quickly led into the ship.

"How long until we depart?" It'kla asked as the two disappeared into the ship.

"An hour tops, soon as Viceroy Organa gets back," Kain replied as his eyes shifted around the hangar. "Thinks Leia might have accidently given them a way to get info on that behemoth the Empire is cooking up."

It'kla sighed in exasperation. "That girl… She is utterly reckless!"

"I think it can be forgiven if this bares fruit," Kain pointed out. "Bound to have learned a lesson or two though. Bail had her sent to aid in a number of peace missions so she can learn to be a bit more discreet."

"That wouldn't be a punishment, she'll enjoy herself," Ylenic countered and a laugh drew his attention to the entrance of the hangar bay where Bail Organa had just arrived.

"Then perhaps you can assist me in determining better punishments in the future for my headstrong daughter." The Viceroy seemed to be tired and in a slightly hopeful mood. "But the gamble paid off, we just got a return message from Qwi Xux. It's evident she is suspicious of the contact, but we might be able to get through to her. Prove the Alliance isn't the group to blame for the deaths of her family."

"Suspicious?" It'kla confirmed.

"Beyond suspicious. I intend to send an engineer to Omwat to study the scene even though several years have passed. I'd like you to go as well, my friend. You can help to prevent awkward questions."

"Of course," It'kla replied before all three men turned at the sound of two pairs of feet descending to ramp of the ship.

"So, are we finally ready to return to Alderaan?" Celly asked upon seeing her brother, and Mariel's eyes widened.

"We can't go to Alderaan!" she declared quickly, her wide eyes flicking over the adults.

Bail glanced at Ylenic who sighed gently.

"But Alderaan is where we live," the Viceroy reasoned gently. "My sister Rouge is going to adopt you and you'll live like a little princess."

"But it's dangerous!" the child insisted.

"There is a story on Earth about a place, also named Alderaan, that was destroyed," It'kla explained. "They're very superstitious I believe." Celly nodded in understanding but Bail looked a bit disturbed.

"But Alderaan is a planet that gets destroyed by the Death Star!" Mariel objected, causing all of the adults to mentally short circuit.

Bail recovered first. "How did you hear of the Death Star?"

"The adults told me, said it was an old story told long ago," Mariel explained quickly.

It'kla stared at the child for a moment, then thought back to Earth and the sheer number of Force sensitives on the planet. Though not open to the galaxy and the Force, visions would still happen, possibly passed off as dreams. A vision could have cropped up that would have warned the Order, but there was no Order out there. So, a sensitive had a vision and passed it around as a story instead.

"None of the refugees wanted to go to Alderaan," he murmured. "And they had all asked about a Rebel Alliance, one that was not yet formed."

It'kla felt the shift in Bail and Celly in that moment and knew what would happen as soon as they returned to Alderaan. Even if it was just for a little while, Alderaan was going to prepare to defend itself.

zzzzzzzzzz

The base that Tara and the other medical doctor candidates were taken to was Fort Jackson in Columbia, South Carolina. Tara had known that it was a major base, but it seemed that the grounds had been radically expanded.

There were a large number of buses, many parked on grass near the Fort. It seemed that a large number of troops were being consolidated since there were plenty of troops and civilians, all in some form of uniform, heading in one direction or another.

Andrew pointed out engineers who were transporting a large number of strange looking equipment on a sled that took Tara a moment to realize was actually a hovercraft. She in turn began to study for any new pieces of technology and was fascinated to see two hovercars, both being used by high level officers.

"Alright you lot!" a voice at the front of the bus shouted, quickly drawing all eyes. "You'll be guided to the hospital unit. Keep together because rounding you up later will be a hassle. Orders will be announced via a broadcast in a few hours, once units are assembled. Get to know your fellows, and don't worry about settling in, you'll likely be deployed in a day."

There was a bit of shuffling, and soon they were offloading from the bus in a quick but orderly fashion. Tara naturally gravitated towards Andrea with Jose and Jeremy staying close as well. Joining them was Cheng and a woman she had befriended, both of them focused on Emergency Medicine.

Small groups appeared throughout the small crowd, none containing more than 7 or 8 people, and none fewer than 2. No one walked alone.

The camp they were led through, if it could even be called that, was a madhouse of activity. More than once, someone would point out some new type of vehicle or piece of equipment. And far more than once, the soldier that was guiding them had laughed.

"The Brass has been zooming around in those hovercrafts for a few months now," he informed them as they passed the fourth hovercraft, close enough this time that several people had reached out to touch the thing. "An' that ain't even the most impressive gadget that the techno wizards have turned out! You medical folks'll be working a lot with this new stuff called Bacter."

"Bacta," Tara corrected automatically.

"Whatever. That stuff works miracles. Been treatin' number of folks with it and they been getting' better. Most famous was that Hawkin scientist guy, he can move his head an' arms an' they been makin' a real big deal of it."

Andrew caught Tara's eye in that moment and they shared knowing looks with Jose and Jeremy.

"What else has happened?" Andrew pushed.

"Lots of underground facilities been built, got to see one myself the other day. They got systems to clean oxygen down there and hundreds of procedures for emergencies. Even a number of those dirt-less farms."

"Hydroponics?" Cheng supplied.

"Yep. Best part though: I got to see the Westboro Baptist guys get blocked from enterin."

"What?" several voices asked at once.

"You heard me. They been objectin' to all the preparations, refusin' to join the military, build anything, or even just keep quiet. They just keep picketin' sites and annoyin' people. Finally annoyed the wrong person when they screamed their hate at President Trump. He got a full report on 'em from people, they even admittin' they weren't takin' no part in his 'Anti-Christ Plan' as they called it. He told 'em right then that if they didn't help, they'd get no help. Didn't turn around so they been refused shelter. Showed up here three days ago."

Silence fell over the group before someone uttered, "Shit."

"Don't worry, they ain't allowed inside the camp. No help means just that: no help even on the surface. And callin' us, and I quote, 'Faggot-lovin' supporters of the Anti-Christ who eat babies,' ain't winnin' 'em any popularity points."

"And that's why they're banned from Britain," Jeremy called out. "Too bad we can't do the same."

Cheng glanced around, and Tara remembered her roommate did have relatives abroad. "How are other countries doing?"

"Not much news," the soldier admitted. "But let's just say that I don't think the Earth has ever been this close to global peace. Everyone is diggin' in, preparing for the worst. I heard news of us swapping engineers and laborers with other countries in exchange for tech. Japan had everyone tryin' to trade for knowledge on how to make that shield of theirs."

Several people nodded, filing the information away as the traffic really became heavy. Unsurprisingly, the hospital wasn't hard to find. Not only did the big red cross give it away, but the small line of soldiers with injuries ranging from gashes, to coughs, to broken bones seemed a good indicator.

The former students marched in, being greeted by a harried looking nurse who directed them towards a breakroom on the second floor. They were intercepted before ever reaching that destination by what looked like a head nurse who pushed her way to the front of the group.

"Set your bags down in the breakroom then come to me for an assignment," she ordered loudly as she pointed at a door that was just down the hall.

Everyone did as ordered then began to queue in front of the woman, who noted their names on a clipboard.

"No surgeries occurring right now, head to Emergency Room lobby," was the order Tara received, and she quickly fell in step with most of the others.

It was a quick run, and then they were greeted by yet another harried nurse who pointed towards a row of intake beds. There were so many doctors and nurses present that each of them were assigned to a single bed and Tara soon found herself paired with a man who had been a general practitioner.

"So, some of the first through that accelerated program?" he asked as a man with a gash on his leg was escorted to the bed they were treating at.

"Yeah, though I'm afraid that we likely didn't receive half the training that is normally expected."

She was answered with a chuckle. "I heard they were trying to make the lot of you specialize fast. That your exposure to other areas would be limited to basics."

"That was true," Tara admitted as she took the suture set and gently began to set the stitches after the doctor had given a local. "We didn't go over any of the protocols, legislature, or ethics classes. It was hit the ground running with medic training."

"Sounds like my first day in Clinicals," was the response. "By the way, I'm Blaise. What did you specialize in?"

"I specialized in Surgery, Dr. Blaise-" Tara was cut off as the man waved his hand in a cutting motion.

"Just Blaise for now. And how much surgery training did you get?"

Tara considered all the days that had seemed to bleed together, long hours under fire that had gone on for months with that infernal dummy. "I had at least five months straight of practice," she admitted, earning a whistle from the man.

"Five months?! Did you ever operate on a live patient?"

"Several times towards the end of it. Before that we were using these dummies that the aliens brought for medical training." Tara set the last stitch gently then was mildly surprised when a slightly damp looking bandage was set over her work.

"Bacta-pad," Blaise explained as the soldier was helped up by a nurse. "I assume you've heard of bacta?"

Tara nodded as their next patient was guided over, his fingers pinching his nose while his arm sported a horrible burn.

"Bacta is becoming more common place, but it is still handed out in very small amounts, like on that bandage," Blaise explained as he inspected the soldier's nose after making him release it. The appendage looked broken and was leaking blood. "There is enough on that bandage to heal that wound in three days, provided that stitches were used to close it. And don't worry about your level of experience too much. Urologists start their training with typically only 3 or so weeks of focus on Urology in med school."

Tara inspected the burn on the soldier's other arm, noting the blackened, dead skin. It looked like a 3rd degree burn. More importantly, the man wasn't reacting to any pressure, nor did he seem to be in pain from it. That would mean nerve damage, so definitely a 3rd degree.

"How did this happen?" Tara asked, praying that the man hadn't made contact with steam or some other superheated vapor. This could turn bad very fast if he had possibly scorched his lungs.

"Weapon practice," the soldier answered, his response muffled as his nose was set and bandaged. "Accidentally made contact with one of those new charge guns. Only got me there."

"Charge gun?" Tara asked as she began to look for a something to cut away most of the dead flesh.

"Yeah, shoots plasma bolts that look like lasers. Take a long time to charge, don't get many shots, and the barrels get so hot that this happens," the soldier indicated his arm, "if you brush 'em."

"Ah," Tara replied as she took a small pair of surgical scissors, preparing to cut away the blackened flesh when Blaise stopped her.

"We have a slightly different procedure we can do right now," he informed her as he called a nurse over.

"Any ideas what's going to happen?" Tara asked as the doctor and the nurse moved away, earning an uncomfortable look from the soldier. "I mean in the next few days."

Her answer was a groan. "Lots of ifs, ands, and buts, but I don't think no one will know until the bullets start flying. These aliens can land ANYWHERE, the Brass is making sure we all know that, but they think that they'll try to keep the fight one where they aren't initially surrounded, so they're focusing on the coastlines. Fat lot of good that does us, there's thousands of miles of that and they can't spread us too thin."

Several minutes passed as Tara and the soldier spoke, then Doctor Blaise approached, an orderly with a gurney behind him. The soldier was quickly transferred to the gurney and they wheeled him upstairs to a clean room, with Tara noticing that there were a lot more Bacta bandages in stock in this room.

The soldier was again transferred without complaint to a scantily padded bed that a bin of some sort was next to. Something about the bin made her skin crawl horribly. That feeling got worse when Blaise picked up the bin, opened it, and she got a look inside.

"Maggots?!" she yelped as Doctor Blaise reached into the bin and scooped out a handful of the squirming, white bodies.

"Maggots," he confirmed as he attempted to settle the small handful on the soldier's burn. The natural reaction occurred as the arm was snatched away.

"Maggots only eat dead matter," Blaise explained as he reached out to take the man's arm, trying to gently coax him into cooperation. "Uses them means we avoid painful cutting and scrubbing which could damage healthy tissue. The cleaning will be much less painful or invasive."

The soldier still looked ready to object, his eyes narrowed at the maggots. However, the thought of having his raw skin scrubbed eventually won him over and he hesitantly offered his arm. The doctor was quick to spread the handful of maggots over the wound.

"These maggots are raised in a laboratory, so they're sterile. They'll eat the dead flesh in a couple of hours."

"Doc, do me a favor," the soldier stated flatly. "Stop explaining this horror show and knock me out!"

The doctor nodded to the orderly who quickly left the room, while Blaise filled out the patient's clipboard and covered the maggot bin again. Tara still felt her skin crawling even after the bin was covered, mainly because her eyes kept getting drawn to the now maggot covered wound, the dark meat just visible underneath the pale, squirming bodies. She noticed that the soldier's eyes were similarly drawn to the wound.

Both Tara and Dr. Blaise left when a man entered the room with a cart that Blaise identified as a Nurse Anesthetist. They returned to the Emergency room and Tara was almost thankful that their next patient had peanut allergies that had been activated on accident.

Dr. Blaise had walked her through every treatment they had rendered, testing her knowledge thoroughly. She surprised him with her familiarity with the internal structures and working of the human chest, demonstrating herself to be more than a minimally trained Thoracic/Abdo surgeon. Her knowledge in other areas may have been lacking, but she could easily render emergency aid.

Finally, there was a lulling on the inflow of patients. Even the traffic outside when Tara got a brief glimpse out of a window seemed to have dried up. Things were so quiet that it was eerie.

"Hey! The briefings starting!" a shout came from across the room and Tara realized why traffic had ceased as everyone turned to face a television. Everyone was inside for the announcement.

The seal of the United States glowed over a dark background for several long moments, and Tara wondered if Trump would be making the address. A moment later, he did appear, but the man behind the microphone was someone she was unfamiliar with. If his name appeared at the bottom of the screen, she missed it as she focused on the small crowd of people present behind him.

"My fellow Americans," the man began, then paused for a long moment. "Even as I speak, across the planet, every nation and people prepare themselves for war. It will likely be our final World War, the third one in our history. But for the first time, it shall be a true war for our world. At this moment, an enemy unlike any we have ever faced is coming to Earth. Their intentions are hostile.

They can land anywhere, and we have no real indicator as to where they will try to land first. They will be after our planet and their goal will be our subjugation."

The man's steely eyes glinted slightly from the lights of the cameras before him. "And we intend to show them the indomitable spirit of America. No, of Earth! Tomorrow, when you deploy, it shall be the biggest movement of troops ever orchestrated on Earth. We have arranged with Canada, Mexico, and the Latin Americas for all of us to aid the others. We have agreed that guarding our fuel supply is of unparalleled importance. As such, each nation shall be sending a number of soldiers to guard those lines. The commanding officers of companies designated for this assignment shall soon be informed.

As for guarding our nation, troops shall be deployed by region. Those who are already at a base are likely at the intended region they shall be fighting for. These regions are the North East, South East, North West, and South West. When the fighting starts, some troops might be moved, but many will remain in their region if it is not being attacked in order to engage if there is a secondary wave attempting a pincer.

The Hawaiian Islands have been ordered evacuated, and to those who remain, we may not be able to send aid for some time.

As for the troops who still remain in Japan, Korea, and other nations around the world: your orders are to stand by the troops in those countries and defend them as we have always sworn we would do for allies.

For a final announcement from me, we do have a surprise. In exchange for our Bacta growing techniques, Japan has given us their plans for shield generators. Though we haven't made anything as big as their shield yet, we have manufactured several smaller shields that will be used to defend the support areas for the troops."

Tara almost sighed with relief. The hospital and medical personnel would certainly be under the shield… Her thoughts froze as she wondered if that wouldn't just make them bigger targets.

"Now, I give you the 45th President of the United States, President Donald Trump."

The man stepped away from the podium and briefly shook Trump's hand, but the gesture seemed chilly to Tara. Obviously, there was a fair amount of dislike between the two.

Trump looked… Tired and angry were the words that passed through Tara's mind as she noted the way his fingers seemed to be clenching. His face was pale and worried, but he looked ready to go to war.

"When I began the race for President, it was under the banner of making America great again. I promised to repeal Obamacare and bring immigration under control. I don't believe any of us could have imagined what would happen so soon after the race began."

Trump looked straight into the camera and his eyes hardened. "And those alien bastards will never see what we have in store for them! Starting immediately after this broadcast, all radio frequencies shall be filled by radio shows and hosts with orders to broadcast nonstop. If there are any amateurs out there, join in the racket! Shout in every language you know, make one up if you can! Throw a wrench in the plans of anyone trying to listen in!

This might be our fi-"

Trump cut off as an aide rushed onto the stage and whispered into his ear, him turning from the microphone to ask a question, of which all any one could hear was "-sure?" Murmurs broke out, both in the infirmary and over the television. People leaned towards the set and whispers echoed while some people checked out of the windows, trying to ensure there were no alien ships dancing around the sky.

All noise cut off the moment Trump turned back to the microphone, almost like suddenly being rendered deaf in Tara's opinion.

"I've just received word that the Japanese have completed what they believe is a working model of the extraterrestrial radios. They are now running frequency tests, based on the frequencies provided by our previous visitors. They estimate that they'll be ready to make their first broadcast within three days."

The cheers that erupted in the infirmary cut off when someone tripped and yanked out the power cord for the television. The shouting that followed didn't put a damper on most good moods, but Tara had a sinking feeling as she thought about possible transmissions. Who could they call out to?

zzzzzzzzzz

Tarkin's steely eyes glanced over the faces of his commanders and captains as they settled in for the meeting. He offered no greeting, instead choosing to touch the controls for the display before him.

The star system that appeared before his men signaled for their silence.

"This is the system we shall be headed to in order to finish the construction of the Death Star. There are about eight planets, half of which are gaseous worlds, as well as many moons and an asteroid belt. We shall be using these for mining purposes, creating the ores needed. We shall use the be attempting to make this fleet as self-sufficient as possible, even growing food."

"With what workforce?" one of the captains interjected. "There are a couple hundred-thousand slaves right now, at most a million. Unless you wish to use troops?"

Tarkin narrowed his eyes minutely, disliking a young officer assuming he had not planned for this. His response was to touch the control pad before him again, and the holo projector focused on the third planet from the star of the system.

"This planet contains an isolated population of humans. Their technology level is very low, with them not yet having done much beyond a few habitats in the space around their planet. We shall be using this planet as a source of manpower."

Now another officer spoke. "A bunch of primitives? You intend to have this station finished by primitives that have yet to truly leave their planet?"

"The workforce they shall provide will be for agriculture and mining as well as menial tasks that any being with common sense can perform. We need to capture this planet for certain since it is the only one in the system that can be farmed immediately. The two other planets that could be used would need terraforming before they could be of use. That may occur at a later date."

Tarkin touched his control pad again and the planet began to rotate, right as the door whooshed open and the sound of regulated breathing filled the room. Though most in the room tensed, Tarkin almost smiled. The likelihood that he would be questioned again was intensely small.

Certain portions of the projected planet were shaded green and red as Lord Vader took his seat near Tarkin.

"These are the areas we shall be focused on first, the green areas are agriculture land and the red are population centers. Both are necessary, but heavier fighting is likely to occur around the population. With the major continent, the population and agriculture centers are thickest near the eastern portion, near the major ocean. The minor continent on the other hand has a division in that the western side of the continent sees more agriculture while population centers are more focused on the east. There are plenty of places other than these for agricombines, but these shall be our focus.

During our initial attack, the use of deadly force is permitted but we want prisoners. The slaves will then be transported to agricombines and put to work, normal punishments and threats used. No need to keep families together. Once the combines are staffed, slaves with skills in other areas will be reassigned."

Tarkin glanced at Lord Vader before continuing. "Given the proximity of the agriculture and population center on the major continent, the 501st shall take responsibility for initial confrontation and the securing of the necessary land and slaves. On the minor continent, we shall focus our efforts on the eastern portion of the northern section first, collecting slaves to be transported to the land secured by the 501st. We expect limited resistance due to the low technology, and it should mostly subside within a year."

An Admiral glanced at Lord Vader, swallowed slightly, but chose to speak. "What of the areas that we are not engaged against?"

"The natives will be allowed to flee there initially, but we shall control the planet and they will be gathered up eventually."

"I meant will we be performing airstrikes? Knocking out power grids if there are any?"

Tarkin smiled thinly in displeasure. "Do you believe they could have anything worth the effort? Airstrikes should be reserved for targets we need broken down."

"I've fought natives of new planets before!" the Admiral insisted. "They can be tricky and inventive. If we allow them the possibility-"

"Nothing they can throw will be a threat to this battle station, that is all that matters," Tarkin cut in. "Further plans shall be made upon our arrival in the system, including landing plans. Return to your ships, the scheduled jump time is in two hours."

The scrape of boots as the men rose was near silent, all headed for their ships. Very few would remain on the Death Star for the jump. Several looked a bit disturbed. Tarkin wrote it off as he studied the planet that still hovered before him.

This was likely the most backwater planet in existence currently. It was far removed from the rest of the galaxy, deep within the Unknown regions. He considered it a point of duty to honor this world as the place where the Death Star would be completed.

Lord Vader stood after a moment. "The Emperor is interested in this project being completed quickly, but be aware that I view this technical monstrosity with much skepticism. It pales in comparison to the power of the Force."

Tarkin glanced at his friend, holding a sneer back firmly. "Maybe the Force was to be reckoned with when there was a Jedi Order, but their annihilation has rendered it nearly impotent. You are all that remains of that page of history, but otherwise, the Force shall never again be a component to consider when it pertains to how the galaxy shall be run. It is gone."

A slight pressure at Tarkin's throat was a warning, but he refused to do something as disgraceful as grabbing his throat.

"The Force lives as long as life exists," Vader instructed darkly. "Pray your dismissal of it doesn't bring your destruction."

Grand Moff Tarkin held himself tall and firm as Lord Vader swept from the room, but the Sith's words rang in his head. And two hours later, as he stood in the observation room, watching as the stars bled into the blue lines of hyperspace, he wasn't sure whether Vader was giving him a warning, or threatening him.

zzzzzzzzzz

The television had been fixed in time for the infirmary to hear the last of the announcements from the President, but everyone buzzed about the new radio that the Japanese would hopefully have functioning soon.

Following the announcements, an officer announced that they would finish their shift at 3am, then would trade out in order to get a few hours of sleep before being deployed. They would be in the barracks located near the fence, which were almost a ten-minute walk from the hospital.

The hours passed rapidly as patients began to stream in again. Most of them were injured while packing up and preparing to head out in the morning. Two of them had fallen out of their bunks, at least according to their stories on why they had black eyes and broken or bloody noses.

Finally, 3am rolled around and the replacement crew began to wander in. Those on duty were relieved as the doctor or nurse assigned to their station arrived.

Dr. Blaise was beyond tired and wandered out immediately, but Tara had seen a few of her classmates, Cheng in particular, run upstairs for their duffels. Thus, she remembered to head up herself and grab what she assumed was her duffel and what she knew was her backpack.

Not knowing the layout of the camp, Tara simply waited by the door outside the hospital for a minute until a nurse exited.

"Hey, off duty?" she asked.

"Yeah, new?" the woman asked in turn, her dark skin causing her to blend quite well into the night.

Tara nodded.

"No directions to the barracks?"

Again, Tara nodded.

"Just turn left on the second block and head straight out towards the fence. They're the barracks with the red crosses painted on the doors. Just look for an empty bunk. I'm heading to the commissary right now if you need anything?"

"No, thanks," Tara replied as she hefted her duffel.

"Take care."

The 'streets' were partially paved, but the newer areas of the camp weren't. Very quickly, Tara found herself trudging down a dirt road. Lights seemed to be just about everywhere, guards as well. None stopped her, but she definitely had attention from them for several moments as she walked.

Vehicles lined the streets, many well loaded, others in the midst of being loaded. Men and women moved quickly but with purpose. Very little was said other than orders being called out.

The barracks for medical personnel were literally pressed up against the fence. Tara glanced at the buildings, noting which were being entered by the few people who were out.

"Psst!"

Tara glanced around before her eyes were drawn to the fence that was visible between two of the barracks.

"Hey!" the whispered call came and she could just make out the outline of a teenage girl.

Glancing around again, Tara crept quietly towards the fence and stared at the slightly deranged looking girl.

"You gotta let us in!" the girl whispered as her wild eyes turned out towards the forest. "There's something out here."

"Why not go through the gate?"

"They won't let us in!"

Tara's mind was hazy with a need for sleep as she stared at the girl, but sharpened a bit when a vaguely familiar looking woman appeared behind the girl.

"That fag loving soldier isn't gonna help us. We gotta pray to God, show our obedience to him-"

"Ah hell!" Tara declared loudly as her mind cleared. "Don't tell me that you Westboro people are still clinging to your delusions!"

"We practice obedience to the word of G-"

"BULL!" Tara roared angrily. "With all that's happened-"

"This is a test, the final test and the Antichrist Tru-"

"You've claimed every President is an antichrist!" Now turning her attention to the girl, Tara kept her voice raised so she could be heard over the woman. "Following this woman is what's damned you! You'd be better off looking for Bigfoot than staying near her!"

The volume of the shouting had drawn attention and Tara backed away from the fence as a guard came around the corner, a grin on his face.

"You heard her. Didn't want to work with us, so go see if Bigfoot will have you!" he called.

The woman stepped away from the fence, still spewing her hate filled drivel while the girl stared at them, her eyes watering.

"Bigfoot, huh?" she asked before stepping back into the darkness.

Tara watched for a long moment, feeling a bit of shame. That had been a kid she'd refused to help. They weren't to blame for what their parents did.

"What'll happen to the kids?" she asked the guard after a moment.

"Plan to round 'em up in the morning if they're still out there. Bigfoot can have the parents, though I doubt even he'll want 'em."

Tara glanced back, hoping the girl heard. But all she saw was darkness beyond the fence. Complete darkness.

Shivers flew up her arms and down her spine as she stared into that darkness.

She didn't believe in things like Bigfoot, Nessie, or the Jersey Devil. But that inky darkness that had swallowed those people, she felt… Something. A second later, a shriek tore through the air and Tara gasped.

"Wow, didn't think there were panthers here," the guard stated after a second, but Tara continued to shake.

That shriek hadn't been human.


	16. Chapter 16

Saria: (has several reams of paper in front of her) EXAMS!

SA: WRITE! You're not going to take a summer break, so write!

Tori: During breaks, right?

Zas: (Covers Tori's mouth and ducks when SA throws Saria's Chemistry book)

Saria: I've been studying every day!

SA: Take a break!

zzzzzzzzzz

Four hours of sleep. That was all Tara got before she was forced to get up by an MP who was gathering the medical personnel for deployment.

FOUR. FREAKING. HOURS!

There was weak coffee being passed around, but Tara decided to forego the vile smelling brew and headed towards the shower area instead. A quick splash of cold water later, and she was about as awake as she would get.

"We'll be deploying along the I-95 corridor!" an officer was shouting as she returned to the main area of the barracks. "We move based on where those alien scumbags touch down. If you are assigned to a unit, you'll move with that unit regardless of where the rest of the medical division goes. Lists are posted in front. If you don't see your name, you remain with the medical unit."

The officer turned sharply and left as the rest of the inhabitants of the barracks grabbed their duffels or put on their shoes. Tara joined the line-up and scanned for her name on the list, sighing in relief that it didn't appear. She would be remaining with the main medical unit.

"Where do we get breakfast?" she asked a random man as she headed back to the bunk she had occupied to grab her duffel.

"Too many for a standard mess hall. Head to the commissary, I'm heading there myself."

"Place was emptied last night," a voice cut in, and Tara vaguely recognized the nurse she had asked for directions from the previous night. "Supply Corps have taken everything, you report to them now for anything you need."

"Where are the Supply Corps?"

"Currently, outside. They're handing out MREs for the next three days since we're uncertain what'll happen or when."

There was a small rush to the door then as many of the medics headed out, either to join their new units or to gather their supplies. All joined a growing line up in front of a truck filled with crates. Several soldiers marked off names, handing each person three brown packages. Just beyond the truck, a large number of people were reading off what they had received and were attempting to trade. Many had also opened one or more of the packages and were either eating some bit or another or trading it.

"Burns, Tara," she stated when her turn came, showing her only ID as others before her had done.

The soldier had what looked like an iPad and did a quick scan before nodding, and she was passed a small stack of MREs.

Stepping aside, she glanced at the stack and her nose crinkled as she read the label for the top of the stack. Mac n cheese. Shifting that one aside, she was further disappointed at the labels 'meatloaf' and 'lemon pepper tuna' on the other two packages. Groaning, she joined the trading crowd.

"I got jambalaya!" someone called. "Anything vegetarian friendly?"

"I got mac n cheese!" Tara replied as she and a number of people approached.

"Chili and beans," someone else offered.

"Spaghetti, you can likely avoid the meatballs!"

"No, they're all mixed together!" someone pointed out to the person offering spaghetti.

The woman with the jambalaya considered between Tara and the man with chili, then traded for the macaroni when it was pointed out that the chili had meat in it.

"Can I interest you in trading spaghetti for the jambalaya?" the previous person asked hopefully.

"I got tuna or meatloaf," Tara replied, and a minute later, she walked away after trading the tuna for spaghetti.

No matter how Tara offered, no one was willing to trade the meatloaf. She finally gave up and opened the pack of spaghetti. She ate a piece of whole wheat bread with some jam for breakfast, ignoring the orange drink mix completely. Around her, the rest of the division had mostly settled as well and the supply truck had moved on.

Tara was investigating the rest of the contents of the MRE and had just pulled out a chemical heater and a bag of M&Ms when attention was called. At the front of the crowd, visible because he stood on the back bumper of truck, was the MP that had awoken them that morning.

"Attention, we'll be loading up now. If you were assigned to a unit, you are late in reporting to them!"

A few people peeled away and began to jog towards the main road.

"Medical unit will be one of the final ones to leave," the MP continued. "Be mindful of the time and use the facilities if you need to. There will be no restrooms on the buses. If you're willing to ride with the equipment, then do so.

Also, some of you are aware that we've had uninvited guests outside the camp. It was decided that although we can't do much for the adults, the minors are a different matter. We counted about fifteen of them previously, and it is believed that the Medical Unit would be the best place for them to be. Make use of them as messengers or as go-fers if you can."

"Take kids into a battle hospital?!" a nurse near the front shouted, looking more than a bit appalled.

"If we pass near a shelter with space, you can let them off. But there's nothing else we can do. Personally, I think they'll be safer with the unit than their parents."

Tara didn't deny that, especially with what she had senses in the woods beyond the camp the night before.

"Head to the main road, buses are meant to leave in the next thirty minutes!"

Having already made use of the facilities, much like many of the other medical personnel, Tara joined the large crowd headed towards the main road.

"Think we'll see more of those hovercrafts?" a voice asked, one Tara recognized as belonging to Andrew.

"Our guide yesterday said that officers used them, so possibly," Tara replied as her eyes glanced around. "Any been assigned?"

"Cheng was," Andrew replied. "Ran into her and Jeremy as they ran out. Jose has been MIA since last night. He might have been grabbed by some of the first units deployed."

"I saw a number of them loading up," Tara admitted before they both lapsed into silence for several minutes.

Andrew finally cleared his throat. "Whatever happens, if we have to run, then don't try to carry anything aside from a canteen. And, if for some reason, this is the evil Galactic Empire from Star Wars-"

"You're being ridiculous," Tara stated. "The sheer enormity of the Milky Way alone would make the absence of other intelligent life impossible. And even if this-"

"I know," Andrew admitted. "Just promise that if there is a Galactic Empire, remind me to tell Jeremy the next time we see him that he owes me $100."

Now Tara laughed. It was a ridiculous notion and a ridiculous bet. Just as ridiculous as her feelings about this whole situation.

Transports lined the main road of the camp, the entire area as active as a beehive as people climbed into buses and other transports. Thankfully, equipment seemed to have all been loaded and Tara even caught sight of a supply truck, much like the one that had brought the MREs to the medical unit that morning.

Vehicles moved almost haphazardly, soldiers and the like dodging left and right. The buses for the medical unit were also a hive of activity, though more orderly than in other areas. The driver counted the number of people boarding each bus, then climbed in and shut the door when capacity was reached. Tara and Andrew passed four buses before climbing into the fifth bus. Surprisingly, seemed to be a highly-overlooked bus since there were only fifteen other people on board.

The driver was still outside twenty minutes later when the first of the medical buses began to move, and he rushed onboard while uttering a series of curses, quickly grabbing his radio.

"I got 17 people, guessing Jackson Med 5 will be the one to pick up those Westboro brats," he called as the bus began to move.

The entire bus heard the laughter coming over the radio. "If they annoy the medics too much, I got no problem taking a few. Got space for five on bus 3."

"I can take seven on 6," another voice called.

"Good, let's divide those kids up. Maybe they won't be as loud," their driver responded with a fair amount of relief.

"I meant the medics," said the first voice. "You can keep the kids, Holiday!"

More laughter crackled over the radio, and Tara glanced out the window, wondering if she could make it to another bus if she demanded off.

It seemed a number of people had the same idea because before Tara could move, a number of people were at the front of the bus, demanding off.

"Wait until we stop at the gate!" the driver barked in irritation.

Tara glanced at Andrew, who was glancing at the rest of the bus with a serious look before looking towards the speakers on the ceiling.

"Not gonna try for another bus?" Tara confirmed.

"No, let's move to the seats right behind the driver and have him turn on the radio. Hopefully the kids will sit in the back and we won't hear them," he replied.

It sounded better than likely being crushed on a different bus with sixty other adults sitting lord only knew how many to a seat for days on end. For now. If the kids sang or chanted Westboro slogans loud enough, that would likely change fast.

Sure enough, minutes later when the bus stopped just outside the gate, the driver counted off twelve people and allowed them off. To the side of the road, Tara saw a large number of people, mostly adults, who looked like they had been through hell. They were staring at the bus hopefully; the girl Tara had seen the night before in front of them.

"We got permission to take the minors," the driver shouted as an MP walked from the gate to stand by him. "They'll be let off near a shelter if we pass one, otherwise they'll be earning their keep with the medical division."

The girl was already moving towards the bus, Tara could see that clearly as she and Andrew moved up to sit behind the driver seat. The other five left on the bus had also moved forward, so the kids would have the back to themselves.

"You're sending them straight to the gates of hell!" a shriek rent through the air, and Tara glanced out again.

A number of the parents were looking at the deranged woman with sharp eyes that contained more than just a bit of hate.

"You let them on that bus, then you give them up to the rapist soldiers that'll join Satan the sec-"

"SHUT UP!" one man hollered, causing his six-year-old to cower a bit. "We listened to you when we should have just opened our eyes! I'm not letting my son stay another night here, especially if there's a chance he'll get into a shelter. And if nothing else, the medical unit will be the safest place he could be otherwise!"

Most of the parents murmured their agreement and pushed their children forward, slapping away the grabbing hands of the objecting woman when she attempted to snatch a child. Some held their own children back, their eyes uncertain.

Tara counted eleven kids being guided towards the bus, the girl leading them. She was followed by a boy who looked to be in his mid-teens who had the hand of two small children. The other seven walked on their own, their eyes glancing back at their parents frequently.

"Any other kids?" the driver demanded loudly as the eleven passed him, his eyes glancing over the five that had not been pushed forward. "Fine th-"

"WAIT!" a shout came from the woods and a terrified mother burst through the trees, her young daughter in her arms. Both were pale and shaking. "Can we come?"

"Only kids-"

"But there's something in there!" the woman wailed hysterically. "You have to let us on!"

"Only minors ma'am. If you want to follow, then the road is open-"

"But there's something in there!"

The woman continued to insist this point as the boy ran back, gently collecting her daughter, and heading back to the bus. Two other children were shoved after him.

"Something?" Tara heard a voice snicker.

"Something," a young voice confirmed, the girl from the night before.

"What would that be?" Andrew asked as Tara turned and found herself staring straight into the girl's tired eyes.

"Bigfoot."

The answer was flat, then the girl headed straight for the back of the bus. She was followed by the rest of the children while outside, the hysterical woman had to be held by other men and women as the driver entered the bus and closed the door.

The other medical buses had long since pulled away as he got the bus moving again.

"Would you turn on the radio?" Andrew asked.

"Sure, hope you like Beach Boys and Beetles. The guy with the most powerful radio in these parts seems to be a major fan."

Tara tuned out the music after the first few bars of "I Get Around" as she stared at the forest. Just as she had the night before, she could have sworn she felt something stir in the depths of the forest. She didn't miss that several others were staring at the trees as well.

"Anyone see something in the woods?" the driver asked over the radio a second later.

zzzzzzzzzz

Omwat proved to be a world covered in grassland with a few mountains. Ylenic It'kla loved the greenery and the fresh, sweet air, but was horribly uncomfortable. Caamas had been green as well, but had been more of a rainforest and marsh type of planet.

As he and the Alderaanian engineer, a woman named Clara Nidfan, had approached the planet, they have seen several black scars from where turbolasers had evidently razed towns.

Despite years of living on a pacifist planet and knowing this happened frequently with the Empire, Ylenic had felt a momentary flash of anger which he quickly reeled in.

Landing in the town that had once been the home of their contact, both engineer and Jedi were minorly shocked at the small crowd that came to stare at their ship. The eyes of the people reflected wariness and a bit of fear. They also showed interest in their ship, but Ylenic didn't sense any outright malintent.

A Customs agent approached them after a moment.

"Names, planet of origin, and intent," the Omwati asked. "There's also a 50-credit landing fee."

"Umm… Clara Nidfan, Alderaan, and we're doing a survey of the town to see if the educational or medical systems on the planet would benefit from our mission program." As she spoke, Ylenic quickly pulled out a card to pay the requested fee and attempted to pass it to the agent.

The fee was accepted as the card was swiped over the datapad.

"Name?" the agent asked politely as he passed the card back to Ylenic.

"Ves Tik'kla, Alderaan emissary," he replied, nudging the agent with the Force to not ask for identification, and further enforced his next statement. "It would be best if we were allowed to look around on our own."

"You will be allowed to look around on your own," the agent responded smoothly then waved them off. "Enjoy your stay."

The town that the pair entered several minutes later was obviously one that had been built by a very community-oriented type of people. The buildings were structured to well together in an orderly fashion, as though it had been designed with intense care.

The blue-skinned native Omwati milled around, some of them laughing or singing, but their eyes were immediately suspicious when they spied Ylenic and Clara.

Ylenic was thoughtful as he glanced back and forth, then gently nudged Clara to step into a shop. Several moments later, an Imperial patrol turned a corner and made their way down the street, weapons at the ready.

Both Ylenic and Clara watched the patrol pass from the shop, mindful of the fact that several of the patron Omwati noted their presence and attention to the patrol, then turned their eyes away.

The Jedi glanced at one elderly Omwati who caught his eye and shared a look. The elder stared at him for a moment before Ylenic felt a stir in the Force and he bit back a small smile.

The smile only reached the eyes of the elder, who though Sensitive, was no Jedi. But he was Light and could sense it in Ylenic as well.

Neither spoke to the other, and as soon as the patrol had passed, Ylenic and Clara left the shop quickly.

Ylenic It'kla could admit that he didn't like Moff Tarkin's belief in most matters. He was a true butcherer of people and placed far too much emphasis on the notion of controlling beings through fear. His military practices were barbaric, utterly lacking any form of mercy regardless of whether a person was guilty or not. If they were present in a population Tarkin decided to punish, then they were punished alike and the same, no matter if they were man, woman, youngling, guilty, or a confused bystander. He had even treated loyalists as traitors.

But Ylenic did give Tarkin one compliment; the man kept excellent records.

Records that the Bothans had broken into at an unheard-of fee of 'on-the-house' when Viceroy Organa informed them that they might have an informant who could help them get out messages or even plans for the battle station. They just needed to drive a wedge in to break the loyalty of the possible agent, and the murder of her family seemed a good starting point.

The key piece of information they had gotten was the home address of Qwi Xux's family, and a missive from Tarkin ordering that they shut up. They would hold back the second piece of evidence until they had built a credible and sound case.

The homestead was a burned-out building, a scar on the city that should have been cleaned up based on how the rest of the city was maintained, but had been left. It stood like a black warning.

Clara looked at the burn marks with a critical eye as they checked to ensure the street was otherwise deserted before they entered the building. The Jedi reached into a pocket and pulled out a holorecorder, switching it on quickly.

"The materials in the walls were chemically tampered with," Clara reported as she ran a swab over a scorched wall. "The material the building was made of is naturally flame retardant. A fire should have died quickly, not burned out of control."

Ylenic used the Force to gently clear the path ahead of them towards the kitchen and dining area. They both were wearing dark clothes the hide any soot they might pick up, but Ylenic wanted to keep such evidence to a minimum.

Clara studied the debris even after it had been cleared. "This was never investigated," she declared. "Any team would have cleared this away."

"What of the bodies?" Ylenic asked as they moved to the kitchen. "They couldn't have left them?"

The answer to that was obvious a moment later as the table where the family had sat for meals came into view. The family of four had been cut to ribbons by the blast, the two that were closest to the wall had been cut in half, the top half of their skeletons lying on the table grotesquely. The other two had been blown from their seat, one of them suffering a broken skull on a stone counter while the other was on the floor.

A long-dried blood smear was on the ground behind the person who had ended up on the floor, their hands reaching toward the door.

"This one was alive for some time following the blast," Ylenic observed as he bowed his head slightly to this person that he hadn't known.

"And this blast was far too powerful," Clara announced as her head ducked under the table to where the warming unit would be. "No wonder this was never investigated, no amount of cooking the report or photos would cover this up!"

"So they faked an investigation, completely and totally," Ylenic concluded as Clara's hands danced along the underside of the table.

"And assumed that all evidence would be destroyed," Clara confirmed as her fingers caught something and she yanked it out. "Ordinarily that would be true, except for one part. The Empire requires explosives to have a single plate that can withstand the blast of smaller bombs. That way, they can investigate the line of handling in case one is used in an unapproved fashion.

Clara raised what she had just liberated from under the table to the holorecorder. "The characters have mostly been scratched off, but scanning would still make it readable."

The plate and holorecorder were both stowed in inner pockets before they left the former home that now served as the grave for the Xux family.

Luckily, the homestead was next to a school and the pair did make it a point to visit the school. The administrator of the school welcomed them, even let them look over the curriculum, but was unwilling to accept any offer of aid.

"We need to build it ourselves," the administrator informed them nervously, his eyes continuously scanning the area. "The Empire has already done so much for us, we couldn't possibly ask for more."

The answer was obviously rehearsed, possibly given to him by whoever the commanding officer on the planet currently was. Ylenic wanted to push, but knew they couldn't attract attention. Clara wasn't so well versed in politics.

"Surely you could use a flash training unit or two? Help with teaching Basic on a wider scale?" she pressed before Ylenic squeezed her arm. The administrator looked more nervous than ever.

"I… need to ask you to leave," he stated finally. "We thank you for your wish to assist our humble school, but we cannot accept any aid. The hospital will be in a similar situation."

Ylenic sighed in sorrow for the Omwati as they left the school. For them to be in such a situation where any kind of aid had to be refused, the opinion of the galaxy that the Omwati were developing had to be rather dim.

"Are we heading back already?" Clara demanded as they walked down the street. "Surely we should visit the hospital, help them start some sort of trade for things like bacta?"

"The Empire won't allow it," Ylenic informed her quietly. Clara opened her mouth to argue, but the Jedi cut her off firmly. "The Empire has absolute control here. They can do anything and have likely proven it several times. That's why the school administrator was so nervous."

"But ho-"

Clara cut off as three individuals, obviously human, stepped in front of them. All had blasters leveled on the pair. One was fair with black hair and brown eyes while the other two were darker, both with medium brown hair but one had brown eyes and the other had green.

"Clara Nidfan and Ves Tik'kla of Alderaan?" asked the man with green eyes, a sneer firmly in place as he regarded the two.

"Yes? Can we help you?" It'kla asked.

"You are both under arrest," was the flippant response.

"On what charges?" Clara demanded instantly.

"Sedition and tampering with a crime scene. Keep it up and we'll add resisting arrest to the charges."

zzzzzzzzzzz

Grand Moff Tarkin stood on the bridge of the Death Star, watching the final moments of the first hyperspace jump to the primitive system that would have the honor of seeing the completion of his masterpiece. Surrounding him were the key officers of the Death Star, and the captains of the other ships of the fleet were present in holo-form.

Lord Vader loomed over all of them, his two-meter-tall frame seeming all the larger.

The navigator broke the silence on the bridge. "Coordinates have been reached, exiting hyperspace in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1."

A slight shudder ran through the deck, noticeable only because it was expected as the blue lines of hyperspace darkened and the stars reappeared.

The various star destroyers and cargo ships of the fleet appeared in formation ahead of the Death Star. The fleet tightened into a typical attack formation, gliding towards a small blue point that was barely visible.

"Send out the probes to the selected mining points," Tarkin ordered, his eyes never leaving the view-screen.

"Yes sir," an ensign replied automatically as he began to issue the deployment command.

Though he couldn't see them, Tarkin knew that a large number of probes were being deployed at that moment to head to the selected targets where droids would clear the area and set up initial habitats.

Before them, the blue point expanded to the size of a fist. Landmasses began to appear, and colors such as white, green, and brown were added to the blue.

"Send the order to begin," Tarkin stated as his steely eyes regarded the planet.

"Yes sir," the communications officer responded automatically. "This is Death Star command; all ships are to proceed to their positions."

"Sir! Scans are indicating that there are four shields covering portions of the planet!"

Surprise shot through Tarkin though his expression never changed. There had been no indication of these primitives possessing such technology in their previous scans of the system.

"The fleet seems to be in range of sensors for the planet!"

That was VERY wrong, the probe hadn't indicated the presence of anything beyond the most primitive of satellites on the planet!

"Are the shields over the targeted areas?" he demanded coldly.

"No sir."

"Where are they?"

"One is over an island on the east side of the major continent, another is covering a city on the southern side of the same continent. A third is over an area on the western side of the continent, and the fourth is over a city on the minor continent."

"Near our intended landing sites?"

"Yes sir. It'll cut the intended attack force in two since scans indicate all of the shields are strong enough to- We have more shields forming, they are aware we're here!"

"How many?"

"Nine shields are forming with energy signatures indicating another dozen powering up!"

Tarkin considered for a long moment these new points. They had expected some resistance, but not the type that involved shields. He decided after a moment that it didn't matter. These people were still too removed and primitive to be truly tested in battle, something that his troops and the 501st were well versed in.

"Continue with the attack!" he ordered. "We will deal with the shielded cities in time, once we have a decent work force."

zzzzzzzzzz

Around the earth, alarms began to sound. In cities that had been partially evacuated, remaining residents rushed toward the subways if they were available or any kind of shelter.

Towns where people waited for space to open in the underground shelters saw terrified hordes of humanity rushing towards the entrances, demanding sanctuary.

Emergency alerts over phones, radios, and televisions notified those who had run to country homes, hoping for the best.

Tara heard to alert over the radio as did just about every member of the armed forces across the globe. The convoy she was a part of had gotten to I-95 and parked on the interstate, ready to head wherever they needed. Mile after mile of military trucks and buses, and though there was some socializing, the only ones who really traveled through the line were officers, the supply corps, or medics in response to calls.

The alert squawked down the line and all activity stopped as ear tweaked, waiting for any kind of order. People who had been milling around returned to whatever transport they were assigned to.

Ears remained sharp as Tara located Andrew and the two joined the rest of their bus, standing at the bottom of the stairs of their bus as the driver, Kevin, stared at the radio. Every so often, eyes glanced toward the sky.

"Alert to all troops!" a static filled voice called out several minutes after the initial alert. "The alien forces have been picked up on sensors! They are moving toward the planet in an aggressive pattern! Stand-by!"

Chills ran up Tara's arms and she shivered in her jacket. It was November and winter was quickly approaching.

'Maybe we'll get lucky and these aliens will make the same mistake as Hitler and Napoleon and attack the Russians in the winter,' she thought grimly before her eyes turned toward the tree line, and she shivered.

"I feel it too," a voice spoke from next to the medic, the Westboro girl.

Tara turned to face the girl quickly. "Ms. Roper… She said it was evil and I was committing evil by paying it any mind."

"Seeing something or sensing someone watching is natural," Tara replied, dismissing the statement completely.

"They said that America is evil-"

"Then 'they' should have left."

The girl huffed in exasperation. "Thought you were smart, but you're just like everyone else and won't listen! Why can't you see that you're doomed if you don't offer God your obedience?"

Tara's eyes caught something in the sky then and she pointed at it. "That seems like a pretty good reason."

The girl looked startled but followed Tara's finger, as did Andrew and several others in the group. Soon, all eyes in the medical division were staring and it took several moments for it to truly register what they were seeing.

A giant wedge-shaped ship was gliding through the atmosphere, as large as a town, heading east towards the coast.

After months of preparation, of knowing this was coming, there were few screams, but the shock was not lessened to too much.

"Is that a Star Destroyer?!" Andrew demanded suddenly.

zzzzzzzzzz

Shibata Reo glanced up from his computer as the alarms went off, catching the eye of one of his fellow engineers, Ono Kotoko. The fear in her eyes was quickly overlaid with steely determination as her eyes turned back to her computer.

That determination gripped Shibata as well and he turned back to his own display, checking the readings and pulse patterns coming from the radio prototype they had constructed. They were in the middle of the last test they had planned since they didn't have anything outside of the atmosphere capable of receiving the signal.

"The signal seems to be strong, and radio patterns within the range indicated necessary range," he informed his supervisor over his headset.

"We're receiving word from the Vancouver station that they are receiving the message," was the response. "We shall consider the test successful, but remain mindful of the equipment. We shall attempt to transmit the message now."

"Yes sir!"

The engineers remained riveted to their stations, watching the readings on the radio, as the supervisor began the recorded message. All of the engineers could hear the message, and they knew what was being said in regards to the dire situation of their planet. The request for aid.

zzzzzzzzzz

Brown eyes stared curiously at the radio, one that was indicating an open message being broadcast on an emergency frequency.

The signal was weak, very weak actually, and after a bit of adjustment of his instruments, brown eyes widened a bit at the realization that the signal was coming from the Unknown regions.

It took a minute for curiosity to win out, then the switch to allow the audio to play was flipped and a heavily accented voice filled the cabin.

"-attacked… If anyon-…!"

A bit more adjusting occurred on the radio, and the next time to recording played, it was a bit clearer.

"This is planet Earth of the Sol system in-" A region of the galaxy was named and a primitive map finally appeared on the holodisplay. "We are being attacked by the Galactic Empire and are requesting that if anyone hears this, please inform-"

With a growl, Boba Fett shut off the audio and glanced at the holomap, noting that the planet was extremely far out in the Unknown region, the outer arm actually. He only heard this transmission due to his current proximity to Esfandia.

This had nothing to do with him.


	17. Chapter 17

Saria: (snoring in her bed).

SA: (stands over the prone figure) Exams are over! WAKE UP!

Zas: Hey! Let her sleep! She got straight A's again!

Tori: And if she continues to sleep, that means more chocolate chip cookies-

Saria: CHOCOLATE! COOKIES! (runs for the kitchen)

Tori: Well, we now know the magic word…

SA: Which one? Chocolate or cookies?

zzzzzzzzzz

The footage of the wreck of the Xux family home and the plate that had been found by Clara were confiscated immediately when the pair were taken into custody. Also taken were their datapads, credentials, and identification.

Binders were then placed on their wrists, too tightly in Ylenic's case, and he fought the urge to use the Force to loosen them as their three captors marched them to an Imperial transport. Not one word was spoken.

A glance towards Clara told Ylenic that she was nervous but resolved. She also knew only that this mission was an investigation of an accident, something that might help her cell leader.

Ylenic prayed silently to the Force that the interrogator would focus more on him due to being a non-human.

The transport that the three troopers took them to was a standard Imperial armored landspeeder. Ylenic and Clara were loaded into a hold that possessed a bench on either side of the space before the doors were shut and locked securely by the Imperials.

"What's going to happen?" Clara asked quietly.

Ylenic sighed, knowing the engineer wasn't ready for this.

The transport took off, throwing both off- balance since they still standing. Ylenic nudged the human to the bench behind her and she sat quickly.

"We'll be asked our intentions, likely be accused of a number of differing crimes. We've discussed this."

That discussion had been that they would maintain their cover story, and the evidence they had gathered at the scene would be from morbid curiosity of a burnt-out building near a school. Such a thing left standing could indicate a more notable need for assistance.

Clara sighed as Ylenic sat across from her. "Will they execute us?"

"Possibly," Ylenic admitted gently. "The Empire is sometimes unpredictable, but notably ruthless. At the very least, we'll be facing imprisonment and hard labor."

It truly was a sad thing, when beings on peaceful missions to bring aid to planets were subject to such punishments, especially if part of their mission was the investigation of what now in Ylenic's mind had been proven to be a horrible and brutal crime.

There was nothing to do in the hour that followed as the transport took the pair to the planetary detainment center, and neither spoke. Too much was on their minds, and any words exchanged would likely have led to them talking about the horrible state of the planet. The oppression was devastating to witness; even if the Imperials were acting on their 'best behavior,' troops marched through the streets and locals didn't dare to accept aid from anyone.

Finally, the transport settled and seconds later the door to the holding compartment was yanked open. Though Ylenic and Clara attempted to climb out peacefully, the two troopers manning the door were quick to grab their restrained arms and toss them to the ground.

"No resisting!" was barked at the pair by one of the men.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ylenic saw Clara wince as she attempted to straighten herself up and rolled her eyes at the comment of the stormtrooper. The third Imperial who stood before them narrowed his eyes.

"It's only natural to try to catch oneself when thrown," Ylenic sniped, drawing the attention of the trooper before him away from Clara. He earned a smack from the butt of one of the standard issue blast rifles for his comment.

"Smart comments only make you seem guiltier, alien," snarled the man that seemed to be in charge of the group.

Clara looked ready to object, but a quick look from Ylenic caused her to shut her mouth. Both took that moment to take in where they had been brought to instead.

The outpost/detainment center on Omwat didn't look like anything the locals would build. The permacrete building was all hard lines and grey tones. It stood in stark contrast with the environment, a harsh and ugly building that seemed to represent the dark crimes of the Empire.

Omwati were being led into the facility in small groups by armed guards, many looking like they had seen better days. There didn't seem to be any leaving, but the release stations could have been at another part of the facility.

Clara audibly swallowed beside him, and Ylenic wondered for a moment why they were not being escorted into the building. He didn't bother to ask what they were waiting for since the likelihood of an answer that wasn't in the form of a blow was remote.

A tense minute passed, then another. Two more transports set down and the occupants of the cabs would exit and force their prisoners to their knees after extracting them from the prisoner holds.

Clara spotted the first sign of trouble and gasped, drawing Ylenic's eye as well.

An officer with a long scar on his face, too deep to ever be fully healed by bacta, had joined a group. One of the prisoners looked to be pleading while the other was unmoving on the ground.

"They shot him!" Clara exhaled in shock. "They just shot him!"

"Ain't got time or resources to waste on those guilty of certain crimes," one of their guards growled, leering at Clara through the visor of his helmet. "Too bad sometimes."

Ylenic saw a blaster being pointed at the pleading figure, and even averting his eyes didn't spare him from the feel of a life being suddenly ended.

The officer left that group, heading to one next to their party. Ylenic could barely make out the words since beside him, Clara was mildly hyperventilating. He gently bumped her shoulder to get her attention, and paid the price as one of their guards slapped him upside his head with the butt of his rifle again.

The Caamasi Jedi was barely able to make out the officer nodding and the Stormtroopers forcing their prisoners to their feet before his attention was fixed on the officer that was headed towards them.

The man's face, though scarred, had a slightly honest look to it. But his eyes were still fierce and hard. Evidently, he thoroughly believed in immediate, harsh punishment for crimes that deserved it, as evidenced by the immediate executions they had witnessed.

Ylenic It'kla was more than mildly surprised when the officer noted both Clara's and his faces, but only reacted with curiosity and no disgust towards him. Not a believer in High Human Culture then.

"Lieutenant Commander Kost," the leader of the guards stated crisply as he snapped to attention. "We found these two dissenters in possession of evidence from a crime scene. We believe them to also have been spreading anti-Imperial sentiment-"

"We were on a peace mission offering educational equi-" Clara's outburst was cut short by the guard behind her brutally striking her in the back with his rifle.

Though the officer remained cold and unmoved externally, Ylenic felt the man's disapproval aimed towards the trooper who struck his companion.

"There was hardly the need for that," the Lieutenant Commander stated sharply, eyes focused on the offending trooper. "As for you Ms... Nidfan," the officer continued, glancing at the lead trooper's datapad for a name, "You'll have an opportunity to defend your actions after the charges stated against you are complete. Now, have you stated the charges?"

The lead trooper nodded his affirmation. "Yes sir."

"Then what of the proof?"

In response, the confiscated bomb plate and holo-recorder were produced. The officer glanced at the plate in disinterest before checking the recording on the holo-recorder. His eyes narrowed more than a bit.

"What of the second charge?"

The trooper seemed a bit perplexed for a long moment. "They went to a school and offered education material," he admitted after a moment.

Now the anger of the officer was focused on the trooper. "There have been six riots today all over the planet, and you're calling that sedition?! I should have the three of you locked up for a month for wasting time with this call! Claiming you have a pair of rebels!"

"They were in a crime scene!"

"Which one? I don't recall a riot in your quadrant today, or any reported bombs going off!"

The trooper was silent for a moment before replying, "It was a backlogged investigation."

"To the point that the bodies are in this state?" the officer demanded as he waved the holo-recorder, and for a long moment Ylenic felt hope that this might blow over. "This isn't backlogged, it was ignored! It should have been cleaned up long before this!"

"It was the one 'specialists' were being called in for!"

The officer still looked angry, but his focus shifted back to Ylenic and Clara. "Make no mistake, entering a crime scene is still a felony. Missionaries from Alderaan or not, you had no business entering that establishment."

"But it's right next to a school and we wanted to know why it hadn't been dealt with, especially with children so close," Clara argued. Her words may as well have been spoken to empty air for the reaction they got from Kost.

"Take them inside, have them processed, and punishment will be decided for their actions at a later time. Submit these," he waved the holo-recorder and bomb plate, "to the evidence locker. No interrogations until we finish dealing with these riots!"

zzzzzzzzzz

Viceroy Organa watched as his sisters and wife cooed and clucked over the newest addition to their family. The girl's dark features were particularly striking in the white and blue colors of the Organa house, and her eyes were wide as she was shown around the Royal Gardens.

Turning back to his console, he glanced at the numbers that were being sent to him from companies on how much it would cost to improve the shields on Alderaan. He was also trying to figure out how to explain the necessity of the expense to the democratic side of the government.

Perhaps as a non-violent means of keeping those Ylesian slavers away? That wouldn't explain the emergency planetary evacuation plan he wanted to suggest.

The discovery of Earth was truly becoming a nightmare. But it was one he believed he could live with, especially if the phenomenal amount of Force Sensitives on the planet meant that warnings of even worse happenings could be had.

But it could be turned to the favor of the Empire if it was discovered.

Moff Tarkin was unlikely to make use of such a thing. He was particularly outspoken in his belief that the Force and the ways of the Jedi were outdated. It was due to a number of his sanctions and suggestions that Midichlorian counts were no longer taken at birth. Organa had silently praised the man's suggestion due to the fact that he had unwittingly saved a large number of innocent lives, either from immediate euthanization or forced servitude to the Empire.

With a person of that mindset in charge of the fleet that would attempt to take the planet, the risk of discovery was low. It allowed other issues to be dealt with.

Mothma had almost gone berserk when she had heard of the prophecy from the Earth people. Confronting several of them had gotten few answers and no hard dates, but apparently, they knew that the Death Star would be completed and Bail's own daughter would be captured and tortured to try to find a rebel base to test it on. She would not break until Tarkin threatened Alderaan, and would then give a fake location. Tarkin would still destroy Alderaan and make her watch as it happened.

But it could be destroyed. Even when completed, someone had made a flaw in the Death Star that could be exploited to destroy it.

Knowing all of this, Bail Organa wasn't certain how he was going to manage to keep a level head if he ever saw Moff Tarkin again. Just the suggestion of it made his blood boil.

Sighing, he glanced at a list that Mothma had sent him a mere day ago: a list of mercenaries that taught self-defense skills.

Leia had already lived through several kidnapping attempts, Winter witnessing them as well. His new niece, Mariel, was likely to see a number of things as well in the next few years and was going to need extensive tutoring before she would be able to attend school, and it seemed increasingly likely that they should send the child to an off-world school.

Self-defense lessons for each of them wouldn't be a bad thing.

zzzzzzzzzz

Tarkin coldly regarded the blue and green planet that hovered in space before him, the faint glimmer of shields now covered thirty-one locations on the planet, mostly large cities that would have been excellent collection centers for the slave force.

It didn't matter, scans indicated there were plenty of the primitives outside of the shield, many organized into what seemed like fighting units. The first prisoners would be from the military class then, if the planet had such a thing. It would make dealing with the rest easier.

The fleet had fanned out across the planet, getting into position to begin the assault and plan their landing areas. The initial landing points planned on by several of his captains had to be moved due to shields, but all were reporting that they were now in position and ready to begin.

Unsurprisingly, the 501st, with Vader back on his flagship, had been the first in position.

The captains in charge of the various ships were now on the comm line, awaiting his command. He didn't smile, despite appreciating the excited tension, especially of the pompous Admiral Ozzel.

"Commence with the ground attack," he ordered after a long minute.

zzzzzzzzzz

The alien ships, despite being enormous, had disappeared in the distance so quickly that it was mind-boggling. It had taken much longer to get everyone loaded back on the bus so that they could get moving again.

The Medical division as well as the main part of the Supply Corps and Communications had been ordered to hold back as the main part of the division had begun to mobilize.

"Jackson Division," a voice over the radio squawked. "Alien ships have been sighted, Charleston has confirmed that the ship is holding just two miles east of them, over the ocean."

That call had been made three hours previous, and the final divisions were finally moving.

On the other side of the road, a large number of cars had begun to flood the interstate, heading in the opposite direction. The traffic was immense and quickly became so backed up, that people began to abandon their cars. Several had been smart and were on bicycles, but they were being stopped by people trying to take the bikes.

No one attempted to jump the barrier to join the buses and trucks of the military, and from the relative safety of her seat, Tara watched the chaos.

Several of the Westboro kids had jumped off the bus to join the wave of evacuating humanity, but most of them remained seated on the bus, advised that the nearest shelter was too far away to walk. One of those that remained was the girl that Tara had slowly become familiar with, though she still hadn't caught what her name was yet.

"Davis division has begun to set up a perimeter outside of the city, all units from northern Georgia and South Carolina shall converge there."

The radio had continued to issue orders and Tara had listened to them carefully, exchanging notes with Andrew.

"They still haven't mentioned anywhere else," Tara stated blandly in a quiet voice.

"And only the one ship," Andrew added as he glanced at the rest of the very quiet bus. "How many bases are there?"

"There are dozens in the US alone," Tara replied. "Every one of them must have been mobilized to train troops."

"And then some." Andrew glanced out the window, they all did as a loud shrieking sound ripped through the air and people on the other side of the road screamed and ran or ducked and rolled under the cover of vehicles.

Not seeing anything, Tara shoved the window down and craned her neck in order to see…

"Don't look!" she ordered the Westboro girl who had settled in the seat behind her as she retracted her head back into the cabin of the bus. Andrew was already looking through the windshield at the small ships that sliced through the air above the interstate.

"Ties…" he murmured as blood drained from his face. He snatched the unopened road map from its holder next to the driver's seat as Kevin continued to stare in horror at the small squad.

"Why shouldn't I look?!" the Westboro girl demanded as she leaned down to watch the fighters streak towards the horizon.

"They're not alone. You can look at those, just not up."

Instantly, half the heads on the bus were being shoved out of windows to stare in mounting horror as people outside also began to scream and point. Andrew dropped the map he had been unfolding and followed suit.

"Holy Mary Mother of God!"

Gliding slowly in a wedge formation were several more ships, a small armada, heading in the same direction that the first Star Destroyer had gone. What Tara didn't see in that moment was the various points on the ships that began to glow.

It was a hair-raising moment in the seconds before the ship fired, then the first of the blasts were fired, red streaks tearing through the air towards a distant city.

It was still daylight, but Tara could have sworn she saw the glow as the lasers struck the ground and flinched, her hands trembling in reaction.

"We're moving!" the driver shouted as the bus began to move towards the direction of the touchdown points of the blasts.

Seconds later, Tara felt the someone settle on the seat next to her. Glancing over, she saw the Westboro girl, who was staring hard at the horizon.

"The end of days come to smite soldiers…" the girl murmured.

"Davis unit is reporting that the invaders are firing a laser curtain, shielding a portion of the coastline in Charleston!" a new voice called over the radio. "Advance units are arriving."

"They're landing," Andrew stated quietly before he settled the now open road map across the laps of Tara and the Westboro Girl. "If we have to run, head north if you can to the Francis Marion National Forest. They won't be able to follow through the trees."

"I haven't camped since I was ten!" Tara protested. "I don't know anything about survival aside from 'don't eat what you don't know' and be wary of everything!"

"Doubt you'll need to, there's bound to be some hardcore wilderness survival people there. Tell them you're a doctor and they'll keep you around until you run into more soldiers."

"What ab-"

"Hey, Em," another voice called, and the three glanced back to see a boy, also from the Westboro group, heading towards them. "Why are you sitting up here?"

The girl glanced down at the map for a moment before responding. "Trying to figure out what these guys know. Why was it so important that other locations or ships weren't discussed?"

Tara was uncertain what the girl meant for a moment until she remembered what she and Andrew had been discussing before their most recent scare.

"Nothing is being said about other locations, so we don't know where else the invaders are attacking," Tara illuminated.

"It makes you focus on what is happening in the here and now," Andrew added on. "Try to prevent the troops from getting distracted. For example, how many people would be distracted if a city like New York or Chicago was attacked using those lasers?"

They all glanced out now at the continued criss-cross of lasers that blasted overhead.

"Ms. Roper was right! We should have stayed with our parents!" the boy practically shouted. "Now, we're headed straight for the gates of hell with these sinners!" He turned and stomped towards the back of the bus, earning more than a few nasty looks. "God hates fags and soldiers and now we're with them!"

"Fag, noun, a tiring or unwelcome task. Verb, to work hard," someone shouted after the kid and Tara felt a dry chuckle push past her lips. Andrew also had a faintly humored look.

The girl, "Em," on the other hand, remained seated as she stared ahead at the road that would be taking them to Charleston. Tara glanced at the map also, seeing they'd likely be exiting I-95 on I-26, the same road they'd been on when leaving Columbia.

"Emily," the girl suddenly stated. "My name's Emily."

"Andrew, Anesthesiology," Andrew replied.

"Tara, Surgery," Tara stated as Emily's eyes glanced towards her. "If you're willing to work hard, I'm certain we'll be able to keep you close. You might even learn some medical skills."

"Yes! Come fagging with us!" Andrew declared loudly in a dramatic voice.

The tension wasn't broken, but a few people lost the fight to keep from smirking or grinning, though he still received more than a few flat stares.

"Hey, didn't we just hear that 'fag' actually meant to work hard?" he defended, doing his best to look affronted.

Emily finally did lose a brief smile.

Then everyone on the bus stopped cold, chills running along the spines of everyone present. Something had just… Arrived.

zzzzzzzzzz

Darth Vader felt as though his senses were in overdrive as he stared at the landmass below from the bridge of his ship. He could barely breathe, especially as they passed through the atmosphere and his senses only further confirmed what he had been feeling.

This planet and the Force! There were more points than he could count! He felt them now with clarity, the Force singing of LIFE!

The balance was also unsettling, some of the points, the Force Sensitive, that he felt were definitely Light, but some were Dark as well. Most were Grey though, in more shades than he could possibly identify.

He didn't dare to leave the Star Destroyer despite his initial plan to fly with his troops. He wouldn't be able to focus, in the midst of this.

Closing his eyes behind his mask, Vader opened his senses as far as he could, drinking in the Force and the presences he felt. An army, all he would need to finally topple his Master lay on the planet below.

And despite the pain it gave him, Vader grinned when he felt their shock and horror as they in turn felt him.


End file.
